


I need home (our tangled bones)

by togetherwecouldbealright



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, No Smut, Pining, this fic was never supposed to be this long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 68,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/togetherwecouldbealright/pseuds/togetherwecouldbealright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis runs a record label and Harry is his daughter's new nanny. Over the course of a year, Harry helps Louis learn what it really is to be a father and somehow they find an unexpected home in each other.</p><p>Or, the kid fic where Louis wants to make Harry a star, Zayn just needs everyone to stop being stupid, Niall laughs his arse off at everything, Liam attempts to keep things in order and Harry takes a chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I need home (our tangled bones)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tomorrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrows/gifts), [tomlinsunrise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinsunrise/gifts).
  * Translation into Polski available: [I need home (our tangled bones)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9825884) by [just_vanilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_vanilla/pseuds/just_vanilla)



> This fic is for Nina and Zahra because they're truly awesome pals and deserve nice things.
> 
> I just want to thank all the people who helped me with this fic; a big thank you to my beta Holly who is always wonderful. An additional thank you to Sharon who basically plotted out every single scene. Another thank you to Abbey for cheering me on and helping me with the title of the fic (which is from 'Bones' by Lewis Watson). One more thank you for Ashton who helped with the whole British aspect of this because I'm just clueless. Obviously a thank you to Nina and Zahra because they're both really, really amazing. You're all the best!
> 
> Don't ask me what this fic is because I really don't have a clue. This was supposed to be 20k max and now it's nearly 70k and I have nothing to say for myself except that I love Maddie. That's all.
> 
> (Also I should clarify right now there is /no/ smut in this fic whatsoever so please don't read for that because you'll be disappointed. Read for how teeth rottenly fluffy this is going to be.)
> 
> Hope you all like it!

The living room is a disaster.

That’s the first thing that Louis notices when he steps into his flat after a week away. The second thing he notices is the way his seven year old daughter Olivia is sitting in the middle of said mess with an expectant look on her face.

“I want her to leave,” Olivia announces before Louis can even open his mouth and ask what the hell _happened_ to their living room.

Louis sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. He shuts the door behind him with his leg and walks over to Olivia, stepping around the various piles of rubbish in his way. “Alright then,” he says, mostly to himself, and crouches in front of her. “Tell me what happened, please?” He has to admit that even to his own ears the level of patience he exudes is just remarkable, considering the situation.

Olivia hums, lips pressed into a thin line and Louis sighs again, setting his briefcase down. He gives in and completely sits down in front of her. “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t fix it,” he reminds her, reaching forward to brush the fringe out of her grey eyes.

Olivia scowls in return, but eventually her shoulders slump and she leans into his touch. “I don’t like Cassi, papa. She’s so _mean_. She wouldn’t let me do anything!” she complains, throwing her arms up exaggeratedly. “I just wanted to build a lego house and she started yelling at me!”

In any other situation, Louis might’ve laughed at how serious she’s taking this. As it is, however, he just got off of an eight hour flight. All he really wants to do is sleep.

“And where is she now?” Louis asks, mainly because the nanny he hired is nowhere to be seen and also because he’s probably going to have to talk her out of a lawsuit (it wouldn't be the first time). He knows how Olivia gets when she’s really upset -- the living room is example enough.

Olivia snorts, shrugging her shoulders, but then tilts her head towards the hallway that leads to the guest room. “She always wakes up really late,” she explains, exasperated disapproval in her voice, “I have to _make my own brekkie_.”

This time Louis just stares at his daughter aghast. “You have to _what_?”

His expression must be funny because Olivia breaks into giggles and shrugs again. “Don’t be silly papa, I make cereal. I am _your_ child, after all.”

Louis isn’t ashamed that he exhales sharply in relief at that, maybe even catches his breath a little. “Okay, Liv,” he mumbles, rubbing one of his hands up and down her back. “Did you make this mess or did Cassi?” He gestures wildly to the living room with his other hand.

The way her cheeks turn a light shade pink is answer enough. He lightly pats her back once before standing up and dusting off his jeans. “I want you to start cleaning and after I talk to Cassi, I’ll come and help you. Does that sound fair?”

At first Olivia pouts but eventually she nods and holds her hand out. Louis takes it easily, helping her to her feet. “Do you promise you’ll help me?” she asks quietly, ducking her head. Louis thinks she could probably ask him to help her take over the world and he’d still lend her a hand without so much as a second thought.

“Pinky promise,” Louis assures. He loops his pinky finger with her own and presses a kiss to the top of her tiny head.

After he’s sure that she’ll actually clean and not just wait for him to come back, he treks through the rest of the living room to get to the hallway. He wishes he could say he’s surprised at the state of the wall (covered in small handprints of various colors; Olivia is going to be grounded from using paint for a week and so is Zayn for buying her them in the first place) but he really isn’t.

Once he gets to guest room, he knocks twice before opening the door and letting himself in.

The nanny he hired, Cassi, is sitting on the bed with her head held in her hands but the second he enters, her head snaps up. There are dark circles under her bloodshot eyes and as soon as she sees him, she blurts, “I quit,” before Louis can even open his own mouth.

He blinks at her in surprise, taken back, and she immediately shakes her head. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Tomlinson. I know what an amazing opportunity this is but I really can’t do it. Your daughter—she’s… well, she’s something. I’m so sorry,” she apologizes (but she doesn’t look all that sorry). Her bags are already packed at her feet and Louis is too bewildered to say much of anything.

It doesn’t make any sense to him why this is the fifth nanny he’s hired _this year_ and why none of them want to stick around for more than a few days.

Olivia’s a menace sometimes but that’s only because she takes after him. He also knows that she knows when to stop—which is why he just doesn’t understand why all these nannies keep quitting on him.

Mind, given that the entire flat is a mess, he thinks he can understand why Cassi is quitting. But at the same time, it’s just a simple mess. _Nothing quit-worthy_ , he would think.

It seems he would be wrong.

He  sighs, nodding. “It’s fine, Cassi. Your paycheck for this week should arrive in the post.”

Cassi doesn’t say anything other than, “Thank you, Mr. Tomlinson,” under her breath before she’s quickly picking up her bags and brushing past him through the door.

He stares after her incredulously as she disappears down the hall. He’s unable to process it all until he hears Olivia yell, “And don’t come back!” loudly just as the front door slams shut.

“Olivia Elise Tomlinson!” Louis shouts, making his way back to the living room to see his daughter glaring at the door. “Is that how we treat our guests? She took care of you for a week!”

“Well she did a really bad job at it!” Olivia shouts back, crossing her arms and scrunching her nose in a way that’s far too cute when he’s meant to be upset with her. “Why can’t _you_ take care of me?”

Louis’ resolve crumbles.

Olivia is still staring at him with a frown on her face and finally, Louis gets down on his knees before gesturing for her to come over to him.

She does it begrudgingly, taking large steps over the legos that are still scattered on the floor. Once she finally reaches him, she puts her hands on her hips and asks, “What?” while rolling her eyes.

They’re about the same height with him on his knees, with her towering just by a bit. It makes it easy for him to reach out and pull her in for a hug. “I’m really sorry, Liv. You know I wish I could stay at home with you all day.”

It takes a moment but eventually, Olivia melts into the hug and wraps her arms around his neck securely. “I know, papa. I’m sorry. Did I hurted your feelings?” she mumbles into his shoulder.

Louis chuckles wetly in response before burying his face into her hair and shaking his head. “No bubs, you didn’t hurted my feelings. Did I hurted your feelings by leaving you with Cassi for a week?”

“Yes,” she answers without missing a beat. Then, quietly, she adds, “I missed you.”

That makes Louis’ heart sink to his stomach and he squeezes her tighter. “I missed you too. I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

She pulls back to pat his cheek lightly before squeezing his ear and giggling. “That’s okiedokie artichokie. Did you bring me presents?”

He blinks at her weird phrasing before nodding and reaching into his back pocket. He pulls out a small box and then he holds it for her.

Olivia immediately snatches it from his hands excitedly before opening the box. She gasps quietly and then starts pulling on the charm bracelet that Louis knows is inside. “It’s so pretty, papa!”

“Only the prettiest for my pretty girl,” Louis reminds and she beams at him, their past conversation already forgotten.

It’s times like these that Louis remembers it’s all worth it. It’s also times like these that makes Louis remember Olivia isn’t his to begin with.

She’s the daughter of his best friend Stan. Or she was, before he and Olivia’s mother Hannah died in a drunk driving accident that Louis doesn’t like to remember. That left Olivia with no one.

Neither Hannah’s parents nor Stan’s parents _approved_ of Olivia since Hannah was sixteen when she got pregnant so it was rather apparent that neither of them were going to take her in.

Louis is thankful he was written down as her godfather and legal guardian if anything were to happen otherwise Olivia might’ve ended up in foster care and even now, the thought leaves him terrified.

Given at the time he was only twenty-one, it might’ve been better for Louis to leave two year old Olivia in foster care but at the same time, Louis knows that he could never have done that.

Somehow, Louis managed to raise Olivia and run a record label at the same time. It took a lot of work and involved taking Olivia to a lot of business meetings she probably shouldn’t have attended but at the end of the day, it all worked out. That’s what matters.

The only bad thing is that more often than not, Louis is busy. His record label is really taking off, signing various different successful artists and it was only a matter of time before reality caught up with him.

He tries to spend as much time as he can with Olivia and he would happily take her around the world with him but as a parent, he has obligations like making sure she attends school and lives a settled life. He supposes maybe he could have her homeschooled but he knows Olivia is a people person and that it would never work out.

Louis shakes his head, clearing those thoughts from his head. Right now he’s going to help Olivia clean and then the two of them are going to take a nap.

“Alright Liv, come on. Let’s get rid of this mess, yeah?” Louis suggests, prodding Olivia gently and she nods, pausing only to slip the charm bracelet over her wrist. A rope twisted into an infinity sign rests against her palm and Louis flicks it lightly before getting to his feet.

As they’re cleaning, Olivia says, “You know papa, I’m basically a big girl now. I turn eight next month!”

Louis snorts, helping her pick up the chest of toys that she’s struggling with. “As if I could ever forget,” he replies, tapping her nose lightly after he places the chest where it belongs.

Olivia huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her face and picking up a teddy bear. “Papa, please. As I was _saying_ , I turn eight next month. Maybe I could come with you on your business trips!”

With a sigh, Louis turns to face her. “It’s not that simple, Liv, you know that.”

“But you’re the boss! _Make_ it that simple,” she orders, putting a hand on her hip and dropping the teddy bear into an ever growing pile of stuffed animals.

He frowns and shakes his head. “Just because I’m the boss doesn’t mean I can do anything, remember? Also, you have school if you happened to forget.”

“School is dumb,” Olivia grumbles kicking a barbie doll.

“Olivia, don’t use words like that,” Louis scolds, walking over and picking the barbie doll up before putting it back in its rightful place. “It’s not nice.”

She says something else under her breath but Louis doesn’t catch it so he simply eyes her distrustfully before throwing out an empty juice box.

They’re silent for another ten minutes before Olivia cries out suddenly. Louis rushes over to her without a second thought, dropping a stack of DVDs.

He sees her clutching her foot and when he glances at the ground, the offending red lego is lying there. “Papa, it _hurts_!” she shrieks, hopping on one foot.

Louis smiles before he can help himself and Olivia glares, still hopping. “This is serious!” she complains and he knows she would punch him if both her hands weren’t occupied holding her foot.

“I know, love,” he reassures before gently pushing her hands off and taking her foot in his own hand. She wobbles but he quickly reaches out with his other hand and steadies her before she can fall. “Would you like a bandage?”

“Yes please,” Olivia answers. She pauses a moment, thinking. Eventually she adds, “I want a Spiderman one.”

“That’s my girl,” Louis replies, smile growing. “Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom or do you want to wait while I get it?”

It takes a moment before finally, she says, “I’m a big girl, papa. You don’t need to carry me. I’ll wait here.”

“Alright Liv, whatever you want.” He helps her sit down even though he knows that by now the initial pain is almost completely gone. “I’ll be right back.”

When he returns, she’s already busied herself with his phone that he left lying out. He’s not even remotely surprised. He figures it’s only a matter of time before she convinces him to get her a phone.

He remembers laughing just a few years ago when he would see children with their phones, saying that he would never be one of the parents who would buy their kids a phone so young but Olivia has him absolutely wrapped around her finger.

Louis puts the bandage on her foot and then after he manages to pry his phone out her hands, they finish cleaning together. Once everything is back in its place, he playfully chases her around for another ten minutes.

Olivia must notice how tired he is because she herself suggests they take a nap. At first he tucks her into her own bed and then goes to his own room but after a minute or two, his bedroom door opens and Olivia crawls into his bed without a word.

He doesn’t say anything either, just lifts the blankets and lets her slide under the covers with him before promptly falling asleep.

When he does wake up, it’s early in the morning and Olivia is still sleeping.

Louis takes a look at her, sleeping on top of her arm and feels his lips curl into a smile without prompting. He adores her so much that his heart absolutely bursts with it.

He brushes a strand of dirty blonde hair out of her face before gently moving her arm so her head’s resting on the pillow instead.

Then he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, mumbling quietly, “I love you.” He slips out of bed after that, heading for the bathroom.

Last night he’d been so tired he hadn’t even gotten a chance to wash up after his flight. There’s a slight bit of jetlag and he supposes that’s why he’s up so early.

Louis figures he’s got an hour or two before she wakes up and with that in mind, he hops into the shower. It doesn’t take him that long but after half an hour, he’s as cleaned up as he’s willing to be. He still has scruff dusting his face and he probably should shave but he’s feeling lazy.

It’s only when he turns on his phone that he remembers that he has to find Olivia a new nanny.

That’s why the first thing he does is call Liam.

“We’ve got a problem,” he informs as soon as Liam picks up.

Louis hears a fair bit of rustling but finally Liam replies, “Good morning to you, too, Louis,” in a groggy voice.

“Have I really just woken _you_ up? Am I actually up earlier than you?” Louis wonders incredulously, pulling the blanket up to Olivia’s shoulders before leaving the room. He ends up in the kitchen with his phone pressed between his cheek and shoulder.

“Shut up,” Liam replies, sound much more awake now. “What’s the problem?”

Louis hums for a second, busying himself with putting two pieces of bread in the toaster. “It’s about Cassi,” he answers once he’s found the jar of peanut butter.

“The nanny you hired for Olivia?” Liam tries and Louis nods before remembering Liam can’t see him and belatedly realizing his phone is falling from his shoulder.

“Fuck,” Louis mutters under his breath, setting down the jar and butter knife before picking up his phone. Thankfully it didn’t crack on impact. “Sorry, dropped my phone,” he explains before setting the phone on the counter and switching to speaker.

He hears Liam snort on the other line and he scowls as he finds a different jar for jelly. “Of course you did, Lou. Now what happened with Cassi?”

Louis hesitates a moment before deciding he might as well get it out in the open. Rip it off like a bandage. “She quit.”

There’s silence on the other line for so long that when the bread pops out of the toaster, Louis actually starts in surprise. Finally, “Isn’t that the _fourth_ nanny this year?”

“Fifth,” Louis corrects quietly as he puts in two more pieces of bread to replace the ones he’s taking out. “It’s the fifth nanny this year.”

“What the hell is Olivia doing? Chasing after them with a chainsaw?” Liam wonders in disbelief. Louis doesn’t particularly blame him because he’s been wondering the same thing.

“I have no clue,” Louis eventually admits. “But I need a new nanny soon or I can’t go to our meeting in Los Angeles next week.”

Liam runs the record label with him. In fact, he reckons that without Liam he wouldn't have been able to get into this industry at _all_.

Their record label is called One Direction Records (Liam suggested it jokingly but Louis ran with it) and they started it at eighteen. Honestly, it started out with Louis and Liam just spending time in various different coffee shops hoping to come across some talent. When they found Zayn, it was mostly just a stroke of luck on their part and every day, Louis is beyond thankful for his best friend who is so incredibly talented.

Zayn wasn’t even _in_ a coffee shop. He wasn’t even performing for that matter. In fact, he was sitting on the road _homeless_ just quietly singing along to a song they were playing from inside the bakery he was outside of.

Louis—mainly because he has no tact at all—immediately asked Zayn to come home with him and then got turned down rather rudely ( _oi, fuck off mate)_. It took a moment but eventually, he realized Zayn thought he was propositioning him which, well. Louis isn’t going to deny how gorgeous Zayn is.

But either way, what Louis did instead was walk into the bakery and bring out two scones, handing one to Zayn who took it suspiciously. Then he talked to him and told him about what he and Liam were doing.

It took a fair bit of time but in the end, Zayn agreed to spend a night at Louis’ and meet Liam. That turned into Zayn living with him as his flatmate. That turned into Zayn becoming the person that Louis trusts the most in the world. And _all_ of that turned into One Direction Records being created.

And then three years later, Stan died.

The months following that were rough and hectic but Louis is glad to say it all worked out rather well.

“Can’t you hire a temporary babysitter? Just pay them a little extra to stay the entire day for multiple days?” Liam suggests and Louis sighs because he knows it’s not that simple.

He sets down the butter knife after he finishes smothering both peanut butter and jelly on the toasted pieces of bread. He puts them together and begins cutting off the crust as he says, “It doesn’t work that way. No one wants to do that and you know how I hate babysitters. They never do their job right.”

“You have to be at that meeting though Louis. We can’t miss it,” Liam reminds him, sounding distressed now.

“I _know_ that Liam. Don’t you think I know that? And then we have that dinner tonight with those executive producers that I can’t miss.”

As he’s talking, he hears small footsteps coming down the hall and he sets Olivia’s sandwich on the table just as she pads into the kitchen.

“Good morning, papa,” she mumbles, first coming over to wrap her arms around his waist and nuzzle his chest.

Immediately all the worry plaguing his mind disappears and he runs his hand through her messy bed hair. “G’morning Liv,” he greets, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Brekkie is on the table.”

“You’re the best, papa,” Olivia informs, pressing a kiss to his hand before skipping over to the small table in their kitchen. “Good morning, Uncle Liam!” she shouts after a moment, mouth stuffed.

Louis smiles at her, unable to help himself and he hears Liam chuckle quietly before he replies, “Good morning, Olivia!” cheerfully.

It’s amazing the way Olivia can brighten any room she walks into. Any time she so much as smiles, Louis feels his own lips pull into a grin.

Olivia does that right now, smiles with her mouth full and Louis snorts, turning back around just as a second pair of bread pops out of the toaster. “I think I’ll just call Niall and maybe he’ll be free tonight. For next week… I’ll figure something out,” he tells Liam, voice quieter now.

Even though Olivia seems preoccupied with her sandwich, he doesn’t want to risk upsetting her with the thought of another nanny. Of course, Olivia loves Niall, so tonight shouldn’t be much of a problem.

“That sounds good,” Liam agrees. “I’ll look around too. Maybe I can find something.”

Louis turns back to glance at Olivia who’s now pouring her own orange juice into a plastic cup. “Thanks Li. That would be great. Just text me if anything pops up, yeah?”

With that he leans over the sink to press the end call button on his phone. He’ll call Niall after breakfast.

Once he’s done making his own sandwich, similar to Olivia’s, he takes the seat across from her. “So what do you want to do today? I’m all yours,” he informs, reaching across the table to brush an eyelash off her cheek.

Olivia’s eyes brighten immediately and Louis ignores the pang of guilt in his chest. “Can we watch a movie? Cassi wouldn’t let me watch _Tangled_!”

Louis furrows his eyebrows. “Why not?” he asks and Olivia shrugs, suddenly looking rather guilty herself. “Olivia, what did you do?”

“I just wanted to braid my hair!” Olivia complains, looking distraught, sandwich halfway to her mouth. “I didn’t know the hair brush would get stuck!”

It takes a moment for Louis to understand and when he does, he bursts into laughter. “You got a brush stuck in your hair, Liv?”

Olivia just makes a face and doesn’t answer, chewing grumpily instead.

Louis laughs again, eating his own sandwich silently. He doesn’t scold Olivia like he usually would when she takes his phone off the table and starts playing a game with one hand, eating with the other.

That’s also why when she spills orange juice down the front of her dress, he gives her an _I told you so_ look that she scowls at. Of course he does end up being the one that helps her find a new dress but that’s completely beside the point.

After she's taken a shower and dressed, the two of them settle into their couch and Louis puts on _Tangled_ for them to watch.

He doesn’t watch the movie so much as he watches her instead.

Olivia is a character herself. She’s incredibly earnest in her gestures, each nose-scrunching laugh and flushed-cheek giggle completely genuine.

Louis doesn’t know how he falls asleep but he must because when his eyes open next, it’s mid-afternoon and there’s a blanket around his shoulders. Somewhere not too far away, he can hear Olivia singing along loudly to Zayn’s latest single.

He smiles to himself as he stares down at the Spiderman blanket that’s on him. Olivia must’ve haphazardly thrown it over him when she realized he was asleep.

“Olivia?” he calls, sitting up straighter and he hears the music cut off before the sound of feet running towards him. He should probably tell her not to run around in the flat since they do have neighbors downstairs but finds himself incapable of doing so when she appears, a bright grin on her face and hair tied in a messy bun.

“Papa, you’re awake!” she shouts before lunging at him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. He exhales sharply in surprise but then he hugs her back, arms around her waist and face buried in her hair.

Louis laughs quietly when she pulls back, still grinning. “Why are you so happy, munchkin?” he wonders, brushing her fringe out her eyes. She might need a haircut soon.

“I’m just happy you’re here,” she replies, still smiling and then she presses a kiss to his cheek. She pulls away almost immediately though, eyebrow furrowing. “You’re scratchy.”

“I suppose I am,” Louis agrees, tone light and playful. “Does that mean no more kisses?”

“No, silly! You can always have kisses!” Olivia replies, back to grinning. “How come I’m the only one that gives you kisses though?”

Louis tilts his head, expression perplexed. “What do you mean?”

Olivia huffs, clearly unimpressed with his lack of knowledge. “I _mean_ how come you don’t have a girlfriend to give you kisses? Or a boyfriend?”

If Louis were drinking something, he’d probably spit it out. As it is, he chokes on the air in his own lungs and coughs abruptly in surprise. “ _What_?”

In reply, Olivia rolls her eyes, gesturing towards the television screen where _Tangled_ is paused on the scene where Rapunzel kisses Eugene. “How come no one else kisses you, papa?”

“Um,” Louis fumbles with an appropriate response. It’s not like he can say that he doesn’t have time between Olivia and work because that’ll get him a glare and the cold shoulder for the rest of the night. “I just haven’t met the right person?”

Olivia isn’t pleased with this answer either because she groans exasperatedly. “Papa, you never look! I’ll help you out, okay?”

“And how are you going to do that?” Louis wonders, genuinely curious as he slides Olivia off his lap and beside him on the couch so he can face her more properly.

“Well, if you tell me what you like I’ll find someone like that!” she explains, looking a lot more cheerful at the prospect and Louis isn’t one to let down his daughter.

That’s why after a silent moment of debating he sighs and nods.

“Alright. Well, I like someone with a good sense of humor… Someone who can keep up a conversation, nice banter and what not. Nice smile, nice eyes. Just someone who’s nice. It’s always a plus if they can cook since neither of _us_ can. Nice fashion taste, I suppose.” He shrugs. “Keep it between the two of us, but I think I prefer blokes.”

Olivia nods seriously. “I won’t tell anyone,” she assures before humming quietly. “I’ll find you the perfect boyfriend, I promise.”

Louis smiles before nodding, wrapping an arm Olivia’s shoulders and pulling her in for another quick hug. “Thanks, Liv. I appreciate that.”

She simply grins brightly and then settles in next to him, grabbing the remote off the couch arm and pressing play, letting the movie continue.

They sit like that for a while and after _Tangled_ is finished, Olivia insists on _The Little Mermaid_ so Louis happily obliges. At some point, Louis leaves Olivia to go make them lunch (instant mac n’ cheese) before he returns.

Olivia is the one that falls asleep this time and Louis carries her to bed before returning to his own room and dialing a number he has memorized.

Niall picks up on the third ring, a muffled, “What do you want, wanker?” coming through the speakers of Louis’ phone.

“I’ve got an important dinner to get to tonight and Olivia’s newest nanny just quit. Are you busy?” Louis asks, voice lilting with hope.

There’s a few other noises, a loud, “You little _fuck_ , those were my favorite pair of shoes!” coming through the line before Niall clears his throat and says, “Again? What is that little rascal even doing? And sorry, mate. I’ve got this thing with Greg since he’s visiting. God, I hate radio hosts.”

Louis groans, pinching the bridge of his nose before knocking his head into the wall behind him. He supposes maybe he could take Olivia with him but then he’ll need to find a fancy dress for her to wear and call the restaurant, letting them know it would be a table for five and not four and then he’d have to actually take care of Olivia instead of focusing on—

“Lou, you still there?” Niall’s voice calls and Louis shakes his head, clearing his thoughts before making a noise of assent. “If you’re really that desperate, I think a friend of mine might be able to help out.”

Immediately Louis perks up in interest. “Friend? What friend?”

“It’s my mate Harry, you know, the one who’s always leaving banana peels around my place?” Niall says and Louis makes a face because no, he didn’t know about that.

“Sure,” he replies anyways because Niall is right. He really is that desperate.

“Great!” Niall exclaims. “He’s really great with kids, they all love him. I’m pretty sure he’s not busy but let me just text and—yeah, he just replied, he’s not busy tonight. He’s wonderful, really. Olivia will love him, I’m sure of it.”

Louis thinks about it for a second—the fact that this Harry bloke is a complete stranger and that Louis is going to be leaving him alone with his seven year old daughter for at least a few hours. It’s definitely not the smartest decision he’s ever made but he thinks about the alternative and quickly pushes the thought from his mind.

He blinks before speaking again, “Can he be here tonight around seven?”

There’s another noise before Niall yells, “Oh my fucking—Greg, what the fuck are you _doing_?” and then his voice lowers once again. “Sorry about that. Yeah, Harry should be on time but how about I come over in about an hour and you can leave early while I wait for him? I really need some time away from Greg otherwise I might end up killing him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Louis replies and finally the tension in his shoulders fade. “You’re a life saver, Ni.”

Before Niall can reply there’s a crash that leaves even _Louis_ alarmed and then Niall is mumbling a quick goodbye and hanging up.

While he waits for Niall to come over, he calls Liam back and tells him about his arrangement for the night at which Liam heaves a sigh of relief.

After that, he finds himself in the kitchen trying to see if there’s anything suitable for dinner or if Olivia’s going to have to eat cereal. He thinks he might need to go grocery shopping soon.

Ten minutes before Niall is meant to arrive, Olivia finds her way to the living room where Louis is taking a moment to clean the place up a little more. She doesn’t even bother helping him—instead she flops onto the couch and watches him with a small smile on her face.

Louis raises an eyebrow at her but doesn’t say anything, just continues to organize a few magazines and put away the stack of DVDs in front of the television.

Their flat isn’t the largest but it’s still pretty large. Louis can definitely afford better but it’s just him and Olivia. There’s no one to impress. They’re simple people, they can live in a simple flat.

When the doorbell rings, Olivia sits up immediately, eyes narrowed. “Who’s that?” she asks, her smile turning into a frown.

“Open the door and find out,” Louis replies instead, rolling his eyes at her sour expression. She sticks her tongue out at him petulantly before she runs over to the door and unlocks it the way he taught her.

He knows the second she sees Niall because she screams, “Uncle Ni!” in excitement and then Niall’s loud laughter carries through the flat.

“Well if it isn’t my darling Olivia,” he croons in a way that makes Louis snort. “How was your day?”

“It was great because papa was with me!” Olivia exclaims in excitement, pulling him inside the flat by the hand after locking the door.

Louis knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s continuously bringing up Louis being with her the same way she continuously brought up wanting a toy car and continuously brought up the Spiderman bed sheets she has. It’s her way to relaying to Louis that she wants something and more than often, she gets her way.

After a shake of his head, Louis stands up and offers Niall a quick hug, mumbling, “Thank you,” in his ear before pressing his lips to the crown of Olivia’s head.

Then he goes into his own room and changes into one of his finer suits. It takes a little longer to do his hair, fixing it just right so it sweeps across his forehead in a fringe but once he gets it how he likes, he goes back into the living room.

Louis finds Niall and Olivia sitting on the couch, talking animatedly about _something_ (although Louis isn’t sure what) but the second Olivia catches sight of him, she’s glaring.

“Why are you dressed up?” she asks in an accusatory voice.

In reply, Louis chuckles nervously and motions towards the door. “I’ve got a dinner to get to, Liv. Niall’s friend Harry is going to take care of you while I’m gone, isn’t that right Niall?”

Niall nods immediately, squeezing Olivia’s hand. “He’s great, Olivia, I promise. You’ll have loads of fun with him!”

Olivia doesn’t look convinced, still frowning deeply. “Why do I need a babysitter? Can’t I come with you, papa?”

Louis shakes his head slowly. “Sorry, Liv, I don’t think so,” he apologizes before turning to Niall. “Do I need to pay Harry? Is he alright to stay until eleven?”

“Nah,” Niall replies shaking his head. “It’s fine. He owes me a favor anyways. Also, he’s fine to stay until whenever. He’s just your average uni student.”

“That’s great, really. Just tell him my number’s on the fridge in case of emergencies, alright Niall?” Louis tells him and the blond man nods.

Niall is actually another person Louis met through the record company but instead of being a singer like Zayn, Niall’s a sound engineer—one of the best around, at that.

The thing about Niall is that he’s just a very fun person to be around and Louis was immediately drawn to his bubbly personality. Their friendship was simple and easy. Louis considers him one of his best friends along with Zayn and Liam and he trusts him implicitly which is why he’s allowing for Harry to come over in the first place.

Louis turns back to Olivia who’s watching him with a pout and frowns before he can help himself. He crouches so he’s at her height before apologizing, “I’m really, really sorry, Liv.”

Olivia doesn’t offer him a reply, just crosses her arms and huffs. Louis’ lips press into a thin line but he decides not to push it. “I’ll see you later, alright? I love you very much a lot,” he says, reaching forward to tap her nose.

Her face scrunches and then quickly she huffs, “I love you very much a lot too,” because neither of them can ever _not_ reply to that.

With a final sigh, Louis presses a kiss to her forehead before he stands back up and makes to leave.

It’s as he’s walking through the door that he wonders whether Olivia will really like Harry or drive him away like all her other nannies but then he catches sight of the time and the thought completely leaves his mind.

✿ ✿ ✿

Harry bites down on his bottom lip, eyeing the door uncertainly but after a moment, he presses the doorbell and waits.

He really hopes this is the right door because if it’s not, he’s going to melt into a puddle of embarrassment.

As he waits, he nervously fidgets with the scarf wrapped around his head. His hair’s getting relatively long and maybe he should cut it, but he really doesn’t want to. He rather likes how long it's gotten. The only people who ever nag him about his hair are Gemma’s friends and he could care less about their opinion.

After about half a minute, the door opens and a small girl is standing there, eyebrows raised. “Are you Harry?” she asks, unimpressed if the tone of her voice is anything to go by.

Harry swallows loudly before nodding. “Are you Olivia then?”

She blinks at him with inquisitive grey eyes before she nods slowly. “Yes, I am,” she confirms before she opens the door wider. “Did Uncle Niall tell you about me?”

Olivia is—cute. To be frank, she’s really cute. She’s a lot shorter than Harry but most kids are, so that’s beside the point. She up to about his chest but despite her height, she’s still a lot more intimidating than she should be. She’s not exactly tan but she’s nowhere near pale either and she has dirty blonde hair that comes just past her shoulders.

He takes the wider door as an invitation in and hesitantly steps inside. When Olivia doesn’t yell at him, he walks in a little easier, stepping into the foyer. “Yes, he did,” he confirms, turning back to see her locking the door herself. When she turns to him, she looks a little more curious.

“What did he say?” Olivia wonders before blowing at a strand of hair that’s on her face. She doesn’t quite manage to get it and after a moment of hesitancy, he reaches forward and tucks it behind her ear gently.

Before Harry can answer her question, Niall appears, eyes bright. “Harry! Thanks for making it, mate. Honestly, Lou’s so thankful but I’m sure he’ll tell you himself tonight. I really have to run because I think Greg might be burning down my flat but Louis’ number is on the fridge and you already have my number, so just call if anything goes wrong!”

Harry gapes at him but within seconds, his best friend is out the door and Olivia is huffing as she locks it once again. “His friend is crazy,” she informs when she catches him still staring at the door with mouth open.

“I—okay,” Harry mumbles to himself before following Olivia into what he assumes must be the living room. The flat is rather large. “Niall didn’t tell me much. He said you were a really sweet girl and that your dad really needed someone to look after you tonight.”

Olivia sits down on the floor and Harry does the same but not before slipping his jacket off and putting it down on the couch. “Well no one told me anything about you,” she grumbles once he’s situated.

Harry isn’t really sure what’s wrong but there’s definitely something wrong. It’s obvious in the way Olivia is sitting with her shoulders hunched and mouth curled into a bitter frown.

“Is there anything you’d like to know?” he decides to ask and when she blinks up at him in confusion, it seems to be the right question.

She tilts her head, considering for a moment before she shrugs. “Not really,” Olivia says and then she falters before asking, “But if I think of a question later, can I ask you it?”

“Of course,” Harry agrees and she seems content which is why it’s really stupid of him to ruin that but he can’t help but ask anyways, “Is something wrong, Olivia?”

Olivia stares at him for a few moments and there’s uncertainty written all across her face but eventually she nods and ducks her head.

Harry is even more incredibly stupid because he presses on, “Can I fix it?”

This time she shakes her head, still staring resolutely at her lap.

He tries once more, “Do you want to talk about it?”

That seems to be the lucky question because she finally looks up at him and then she nods slowly, like she’s unsure whether or not she should. “Yes please.”

Harry nods back, straightening up. “I’m all ears,” he tells her, pointedly turning his ears towards her and cupping both of his hands around it.

She giggles quietly and a warm feeling settles in Harry’s stomach. “You’re funny,” Olivia mumbles, eyes brightening slightly. “I like that.”

He smiles at her pleasantly and he knows his cheeks must dimple because she reaches out and pokes at his cheek while giggling again.

“My finger’s sinking in!” she exclaims giddily, testing it on his other cheek with her free hand. Harry finds himself laughing before he can help it and then Olivia is laughing too, poking his cheeks repeatedly.

Eventually, Olivia settles back in her seat, cheeks flushed a light pink color. “I was sad about my papa,” she tells him then, looking slightly more guarded.

Harry frowns, tilting his head to the side. “Why are you sad about your papa?” he wonders, slightly confused.

He doesn’t know much but he does know whose daughter this is. It’s Louis Tomlinson’s daughter, co-owner of the record label that Niall works at. He knows how successful their label is and he would know even if Niall didn’t tell him every other time he drops by.

They’ve signed artists like Zayn Malik, Little Mix, 5 Seconds of Summer, Olly Murs and more that he can’t seem to remember right now. They’re _very_ successful.

Based on that alone, Harry would have thought that Olivia would have an exciting childhood, getting to meet celebrities and he’s sure they don’t struggle with money either. It seems there’s something else, beyond all of it, that’s bothering Olivia.

“He never spends time with me anymore. He’s always busy with work and I never get to see him, ever! He just keeps getting other people to take care of me and they all suck!” Olivia complains, looking exasperated but then her eyes widen and she quickly catches herself. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Harry assures, patting her knee. “He _never_ spends time with you?”

Olivia shakes her head sadly and Harry’s heart clenches in his chest.

He knows little to nothing about this girl sitting in front of him—but what he does know is that she doesn’t deserve to be sad. No one does.

Harry frowns at her, unsure what to say. He wasn’t prepared for this when Niall said ‘ _Remember my boss Louis? He’s busy tonight but he has no one to look after his daughter and I know you love kids so do you think maybe you could…?_ ’ He probably shouldn’t have agreed right away.

At the same time, it’s not as if Harry has anything better to do on a Saturday night. He supposes maybe he could go to a party or something but he’d much rather stay in and read a book instead. It’s clear his English degree hasn’t been serving his social life well.

When his sister Gemma said an English degree is useless, Harry probably should’ve listened. It’s alright because he’ll just become a secondary school teacher teaching English or something. He hopes.

Harry figures this right now will be good practice if he ever does become one.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Harry wonders, biting his bottom lip and Olivia nods again, sighing quietly. “Nothing’s worked?”

“Nothing!” Olivia exclaims, looking distressed. Harry hopes she’s not going to start pulling her hair out. He’s not equipped for that. “Absolutely nothing!”

“Well,” Harry starts and then realizes he has no idea where he’s going with this. He’s going to make a horrible teacher. “I don’t know what to do about your father but why do all your babysitters suck?”

Olivia scowls suddenly. “I’m not a _baby_! I don’t need a _baby_ sitter. I’m a big girl.”

Harry blinks at her before nodding his head. “Right, of course. I’m sorry.”

She sighs, scrubbing her hand over her face. “You’ve got to keep up, honestly,” she reprimands and Harry holds in a snort—settles for a smile instead.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats and she just waves a hand at him, nonplussed. “Now can you tell me why all your caretakers suck?”

“They’re all so lame,” Olivia moans, shoving her face into her hands dramatically. “It’s like they don’t know what fun is!”

Harry purses his lips, slightly confused. “What do you mean?”

“Any time I want to do anything even a little bit fun, they tell me I can’t do it because papa will be mad! Why would papa be mad that I’m having fun? They’re stupid,” she grumbles, hands still covering her face.

Without thinking, Harry reaches out and pulls Olivia’s hands from her face, taking them in his own and holding them there. “Hey pal, I’m sure it’s just because they don’t want to get in trouble with your papa,” he soothes.

Olivia huffs, shaking her head in attempt to flip a few strands of hair out of her face dramatically but it doesn’t work and Harry laughs quietly.

“Alright, how about this. Everything that your last baby— _caretakers_ didn’t let you do, we’ll do tonight?” Harry tries, hoping she hadn’t asked them to do things that actually would get him in trouble with his father.

When her eyes light up, he thinks that maybe even if it gets him in trouble, he might do it anyways. Her first request is simple enough, “Can you braid my hair?”

Harry takes a moment to thank Gemma silently for all those years she spent drilling how to braid hair into his head. “Of course,” he agrees easily before letting go of Olivia’s hands and motioning for her to turn around which she does eagerly.

As he’s braiding her hair, he lets himself wonder about Olivia’s father. Harry’s never actually seen him—or a picture of him since he’s too lazy to Google someone that has little to no effect on his life.

He glances down at Olivia who is seven years old according to Niall. He assumes Olivia’s father can’t be _that_ old then. Probably in his mid to late thirties.

“Hey Olivia?” Harry says, twisting the braid over her shoulder before tying it with a hair tie he was wearing on his own wrist.

She turns around, grinning brightly. “Yes Harry?” Olivia asks, running her hands over the braid lightly and her expression is giddy. It warms Harry’s heart how a simple braid can make her entire face light up like that.

“Your dad… he _never_ spends time with you?” Harry checks again, biting his bottom lip. He’s a little worried if he’s honest. A seven year old shouldn’t grow up without her father and the thought that Olivia might makes him anxious.

Olivia’s expression falls a little before finally, she shakes her head. “No, he does spend time with me,” she mumbles, not meeting Harry’s eyes. “I just wish he would spend more time with me. He’s always going to places and I’m always stuck at home. He’s all I have.”

If Harry had any part of his heart left, it’s gone now, crumbling into pieces as he frowns at her. “I’m sorry to hear that, Olivia,” he replies solemnly and then brushes a strand of hair behind her ears. “You’re all he has too then, aren’t you?”

She nods, leaning into his touch. “Papa doesn’t have anyone to kiss him,” Olivia agrees quietly and then she falters, eyes flashing up to Harry’s face. Before Harry can react to what she said, she’s jumping up, a grin on her face and she shouts, “Harry!”

“Olivia?” Harry shouts back, albeit his voice is more confused than anything else. He’s going to get whiplash from how easily excitable she is.

“You’re funny!” she exclaims, practically bouncing now and Harry lets out an incredulous laugh, reaching for her shoulder to hold her steady.

“Thank you?”

Olivia grins, still bouncing under his hand. “You have a nice smile and a nice eyes! And you’re nice! This is so great!” she practically yells, gripping his wrist tightly.

Harry blinks at her, slightly confused but he’s not going to refuse a compliment from a seven year old, especially one that looks as happy as Olivia does. “Thank you?” he repeats, still unsure.

“Can you cook?” she asks immediately after he closes his mouth. He’s slightly taken back but how sudden the question comes but after a second, he nods.

Olivia legitimately _screams_. “This is so wonderful!” she shouts delightedly. “You’re so wonderful! This is the best day of my life!”

He lets her have her moment for a few more seconds before he settles his free hand on her other shoulder. “Olivia, as flattering as this is, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he tells her seriously and she just giggles in reply.

Without another word, Olivia takes a step forward and hugs him tightly, burying her face into her neck and squeezing her arms around him. “Thank you, Harry,” she says before she pulls back, eyes bright. “The last nanny wouldn’t let me paint. Can we paint?”

Although Harry has no idea what’s happening, he nods, blinking at her in confusion. “Yeah, of course we can. Do you want to tell me what just happened?”

“Nope,” Olivia replies, popping the letter ‘p’ exaggeratedly. “You’ll find out eventually. Now come on, I want to paint a dinosaur!”

Olivia tugs on his hands and he stands up after a moment, letting her lead him towards a chest in the corner of the room. When she opens it, it’s filled with art supplies and within seconds, his hands are filled with paint brushes.

From that point on, it’s Harry and Olivia doing the strangest things—starting from painting and ending with putting on a sock-poppet show for her stuffed animals.

The entire living room is a mess and in the back of his mind, he knows they have to clean up before Olivia’s father gets home or Niall’s going to kill him. He doesn’t particularly want to die tonight.

They’re sitting in the middle of the mess, Olivia’s paint covered hands attempting to draw a ship on his arm, when the front door opens.

Harry’s head snaps up in surprise, looking at the door and Olivia giggles loudly because the motion makes her finger slide down his arm, leaving a bright pink streak in its wake.

The man standing at the door is gaping at the living room and Harry doesn’t exactly blame him. It’s a _mess_. In fact, it’s worse than some of the wilder parties he’s attended.

“What in the world?” the man says to no one in particular, taking a cautious step inside the flat and shutting the door behind him.

That’s when Harry realizes the man is definitely _not_ in his mid to late thirties. He can’t be more than few years older than Harry himself, maybe ten years younger than Harry assumed. The second thing Harry realizes is that this man is outrageously good looking.

He’s got a caramel colored fringe swept across his forehead and blue eyes that Harry can see even from where he is. He’s clearly been unshaved for a few days because there’s scruff dusting his face, making his cheekbones even more prominent. Harry doesn’t know why but he reminds Harry of a wolf. That is, if wolves were drop dead gorgeous.

It’s at that moment that the man catches sight of them, Olivia giggling wildly and Harry staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “What the f—” the man starts and then immediately cuts himself off, eyes falling on Olivia who grins at him.

“Papa!” she shouts excitedly, immediately standing up and running over to the man who’s clearly her father if the way he catches her readily in his arms is any indication. “You’re home!”

“Hi, Liv,” the man—Louis, he corrects in his mind—greets, lifting Olivia up and hoisting her on his waist. “You must be Harry,” Louis says after a moment, eyeing him in a way that leaves Harry feeling exposed. If he weren’t feeling so intimidated, he would even go as far as to say that perhaps Louis is checking him out (but he knows that’s just ridiculous, so he puts the thought to rest).

Harry waves awkwardly, then immediately drops his arms when he remembers it’s painted at least ten different colors. “That’s me,” Harry agrees after clearing his throat nervously.

It takes a moment for Harry to realize he should probably stand up. He does, being careful not to slip and fall on anything because he doesn’t want his first impression, with Louis Tomlinson of all people, to get worse.

Louis looks down at Olivia whose eyes are bright as she grins at Harry. “It seems like the two of you had an…interesting night.”

Olivia pushes lightly at Louis’ chest and that must be code for letting her down because he lowers her to the ground. Almost immediately she runs over to Harry, wrapping her arms around his waist in a motion that nearly makes Harry topple over.

“It was the best night _ever_ ,” she gushes excitedly, squeezing her arms around him tightly and after a second, Harry wraps one of own arms around her shoulder. “Harry is the coolest person ever! He even braided my hair!”

Louis nods, licking his lips and his eyes meet Harry’s. “I see that,” he murmurs quietly, tilting his head. “Did you have fun?”

Harry isn’t sure whether Louis is speaking to him or not but Olivia saves him from speaking by nodding eagerly. “It was so much fun, papa! Harry’s so nice! And he’s cute, isn’t he cute?”

That seems to startle her father because Louis blinks at the two of them before slowly nodding his head. “Sure, Olivia. I really like his headscarf.”

Olivia absolutely beams at that for a reason that’s beyond Harry. “I guess you could say you like his fashion sense then?” she asks, voice almost _smug_.

It must mean something to Louis though because realization draws on the other man’s face and he scrubs a hand over his face tiredly. “Olivia Elise Tomlinson, don’t you dare start this with me,” he threatens quietly, eyes narrowing.

In reply, Olivia pouts at him. “I didn’t even do anything! I just really like Harry, okay? He’s my best pal!” she shouts indignantly.

Harry simply stares at her, unsure of what exactly is going on. Clearly there's something because her father looks seconds from pulling his hair out and Olivia is frowning, her hands slipping from around Harry’s waist only for her to put them on her own hips petulantly.

“Your best pal?” Louis repeats almost incredulously, before reminding her in a stern voice, “You’ve known for him one night!”

That obviously strikes a chord with Olivia because she’s suddenly glaring. “Well if you were here, we wouldn’t have this problem, would we?” she snaps, scowling.

Even Harry wants to cower under her look but Louis refrains. “Go to bed, we’re not talking about this now,” he tells her, pinching the bridge of his nose. Olivia huffs loudly before she stomps away from Harry angrily, assumedly in the direction of her bedroom.

A door slams a few seconds later and then Harry watches as Louis almost curls in on himself, looking distinctly distraught. It makes Harry want to comfort him but he’s in no place to be doing anything.

“Um, Mr. Tomlinson?” Harry tries instead, picking his jacket up with the arm that has no paint on it and taking a few steps closer. “Are you alright?”

Louis seems to remember he’s still in the room because his head snaps up and he blinks at him a few times, entirely confused. “I’m—yeah, I’m good, Harry. Thanks for asking. I’m sorry about—yeah,” Louis motions towards where Olivia disappeared. “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble?”

Harry quickly shakes his head. “She was a delight,” he reassures and after a moment of uncertainty, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did or said something I shouldn’t have.”

“No,” Louis replies, licking his lips again and up close, he’s even more beautiful. Harry hopes his heart doesn’t actually stop beating. “Not at all. It’s my fault. Don’t worry about it.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Harry speaks up, “Right. Well…tell her I said goodnight?”

Louis blinks again before he nods. “Yeah, of course mate.”

Harry stands there for a moment, biting his bottom lip and now that they’re only a few footsteps apart, he sees that Louis is definitely a few years older and he’s also shorter than Harry by an inch or two.

“Oh—sorry, am I in the way?” Louis wonders, immediately stepping away from the door and Harry shakes his head but nothing comes out of his mouth.

Eventually, he just takes the few steps between him and the door, his shoulder brushing against Louis’ as he passes him by. Just as he’s walking through the door, he hears Louis call, “Thank you,” and Harry turns back to flash him a smile right before the door closes.

✿ ✿ ✿

Louis is about ready to just fire the next person that walks through the door. Well, he’s not _actually_ going to do it. But the thought is definitely there.

It turns out that the next person that walks into his office is Liam and Louis isn’t really in a position to fire him so he settles for fixing the younger man with a glare.

Liam raises an eyebrow, taking the seat across from Louis and when Louis sees the two coffees in his hands, he’s immediately making grabby hands. “Give it to me or I’ll kill you,” Louis threatens with no intention to carry it out but Liam hands one of the coffees over anyways.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Liam replies dryly, crossing one of his legs at the knee.

Louis scowls before sipping his coffee. Almost immediately, he feels his headache start to fade. It’s probably a psychological thing. Louis couldn’t care less. “I didn’t actually sleep last night, you insensitive arsehole,” he snaps, taking another sip.

“And why ever not?” Liam asks, folding his hands together. His coffee is in his lap and Louis is considering just stealing it after he finishes with his own.

Louis smiles saccharinely at his oldest friend. “Maybe because I have to take care of a seven year old menace that refuses to sleep at night.”

In reply, Liam actually looks a little surprised, lips parting. “I thought you hired that new nanny, Nina?”

“I did,” Louis agrees bitterly. He doesn’t know what Olivia does while he’s away but Nina is slowly starting to look more and more miserable. He has a feeling he’s going to be on the receiving end of another nanny quitting soon. “Olivia hates her.”

“Why? She seemed lovely when I met her?” Liam replies, evidently distraught. “Am I missing something?”

Louis sighs, taking another sip of his coffee. Ever since the other night when he had Niall’s friend Harry babysit Olivia for the night, she won’t stop talking about him.

Every other sentence that comes out of her mouth is ‘ _when is Harry coming back?’_ or ‘ _can’t Harry take care of me instead_?’ and Louis has had about enough. It’s not like he’s forgotten Harry either. In fact, it would be rather impossible to.

That night, the first surprise had been the mess. The second surprise, however, had been how the person meant to be taking of his daughter was the most beautiful man Louis had ever come across in his life. Harry with his messy curls held back by a simple scarf wrapped around his head and glassy green eyes and rosy red lips and tattoos littering his left arm.

Louis doesn’t believe in love at first sight but he can definitely agree that he can’t get the curly haired man out of his mind. As it is, Louis does know that he can’t be thinking of Harry when he has a record label to run and a daughter to take care of.

It isn’t helping that Olivia seems to be incredibly insistent on seeing Harry again and Louis doesn’t even know how he would arrange that. Harry wasn’t even there as a formal babysitter—he was just doing Niall a _favor_.

When Liam clears his throat, Louis is still lost in his own mind, and ends up spilling the coffee down his shirt. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath before looking over at Liam who’s already offering him a handkerchief.

Why does Liam even _have_ a handkerchief? Louis knows the two of them are really well off with their millions but he didn’t realize they were posh enough to start carrying handkerchiefs.

He doesn’t waste any more time thinking about it because his shirt is getting ruined and the coffee is burning into his skin. Louis grabs the handkerchief out of Liam’s hand and begins lightly dabbing at his shirt. He’s so preoccupied that he barely catches what Liam is saying until, “… should just go home and take a nap, Lou. I can handle things. Nothing big is going on today.”

Even though sometimes Liam is like an annoying little brother, at other times he’s the brother Louis always wished he had. This is one of those times.

“Are you sure?” Louis checks even though he’s already made up his mind and Liam clearly knows because he’s giving Louis a _really_? look.

Liam waves him out without answering and after a moment of deliberating, Louis grabs his briefcase and Liam’s coffee before he runs out of the room. He hears Liam yell indignantly after him, but he pays it no heed.

Some of the assistants roaming the halls cast him concerned looks and he figures they've a right to. After all, he does look like a lunatic running out of his own office with coffee spilt all over his shirt. It’s cool, though. He owns half this company. Fuck everyone else.

By the time he gets home, the shirt is sticking to his chest in a way that makes Louis’ skin crawl and the need for a shower is strong.

Olivia should be home from school by now because according to his watch, Nina should’ve picked her up about an hour ago.

He manages to get up to his flat which is on the third floor with minor difficultly. When he opens the door, he wishes he were surprised at the mess but he really isn’t. He’s more surprised that Olivia managed all of this in an hour, really.

Louis sighs, shutting the door behind him and toeing off his shoes (he’d rather his socks get dirty than the pair of Vans on his feet). He supposes Liam’s near-constant insistence that he start wearing socks to work paid off.

He drops his briefcase on top of a pile of clothes on the couch and starts to loosen his tie as he glances around for his daughter. When he does find her, she’s sitting on top of the laundry basket, swinging her feet and a grin on her face.

“Why are you so happy?” he asks suspiciously, pulling his tie off completely as Olivia shrugs, eyes twinkling mischievously. She’s not even biologically his daughter yet she manages to look exactly like him when she pulls that expression.

It’s then that Nina bursts into the bathroom, her entire face swollen. “What is _wrong_ with your daughter?” she screams at Louis, voice completely distressed.

“What happened?” Louis asks carefully. He side eyes Olivia who’s still grinning delightedly.

“I told her I was allergic to peanuts, Mr. Tomlinson! I know for a fact I did! I _know_ I did!” she shouts, clutching at her face with equally swollen hands.

Louis’ mouth falls open and he turns to look at his daughter in horror. When Olivia catches his look, her face immediately softens and she glances up with wide, innocent eyes that Louis knows better than to trust. “I don’t know what she’s talking about, papa,” Olivia informs, blinking at Nina in faux concern.

Nina scowls and she turns back to Louis. “I quit,” she hisses before turning on her heel. Within two minutes, there’s the sound of the front door slamming shut.

After a minute where Louis is suspended in disbelief, he turns back to Olivia who hops down from the laundry basket. “Are you going to hire Harry now?” she asks, smiling up at him.

“Olivia, people can _die_ from allergic reactions!” he shouts instead of answering her question and she frowns at him. Her bottom lip is quivering a little but Louis doesn’t concentrate on that or he’ll start feeling bad.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” she shouts back, voice cracking halfway through.

Louis sighs, leaning against the sink before he scrubs his hand over his face in a practiced motion. “Why did you purposely give her peanuts if you knew she was allergic?”

Olivia ducks her head, still frowning and she mumbles, “It was her mistake. She told me to make sandwiches so I did! Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, like you taught me!”

“Don’t you spin this around,” Louis scolds. When she doesn’t look up. he continues, “You can’t just chase off all your nannies, Olivia! They’re just trying to take care of you! Why won’t you let them?”

Olivia doesn’t reply but then he hears her softly hiccup and realizes she’s crying. Immediately, he drops to his knees and lifts her chin up with a finger before wiping away the tears streaking her cheeks. “Liv, you know I don’t like to yell at you,” he murmurs and wipes away another stray tear that falls down her cheek.

“I didn’t want her to d-die,” Olivia wails through hiccups. “I just wanted H-Harry to be my nanny.”

Her nose is running now too and Louis figures his shirt is soiled anyways so he wipes her nose with his shirt sleeve before pulling her in for a hug. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do, yeah?” he mumbles into her ear and she nods, still hiccupping as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“Thank you, papa,” she whimpers and Louis sighs as he pulls her closer and squeezes.

-

It turns out it isn’t that simple. After he tucks Olivia in that night, he finds himself staring blankly at his phone.

Harry was a one night babysitter. He’s not a nanny. Not to mention, he’s nowhere near _qualified_ to be Olivia’s nanny. Louis only takes professionals and Harry is just a university student doing his friend a favor.

The problem is Louis doesn’t think Olivia is going to accept anyone other than Harry now. It’s the first babysitter than Louis has ever seen her actually take to and he’s not sure whether it’s because she has a delusion in her head that she’s going to set the two of them up or because she genuinely likes him. Either way, it seems Louis has no choice but to call Harry.

Another problem would be that he doesn’t even have Harry’s number.

Sighing, Louis leaves his phone where it’s charging and goes on to do his usual nightly routines. By the time he’s climbing back into bed, wearing a set of striped pajamas that Olivia chose for him, his phone rings on its own.

Amazingly enough, it’s Niall calling.

Louis slides his thumb across the screen, picking up and holding the phone to his ear. It’s around nine at night and it’s relatively early for both Olivia and Louis since usually they both take a nap in the middle of the day and stay up later as a result. He dismisses the thought and waits for Niall to speak.

The first thing Niall says is, “I’m going to fucking kill Greg James.”

“Don’t do that,” Louis replies, sitting up straight up and leaning his back against his bed frame. “I’m not going to bail your arse out of jail for murdering my favorite radio host.”

Niall scoffs on the other end. “Just because _you_ hate that Grimshaw bloke, that doesn’t mean every other radio host is good. I can tell you from experience they’re _all_ awful.”

“Hey, I’ve met Greg and he was cool,” Louis defends. “And he always plays sick tunes when he’s on the radio.”

He can almost hear Niall rolling his eyes. “Yeah, alright. After he destroys _your_ flat, we can talk.”

“Oh please, like he could do any worse than Olivia already does. She spends half her time making those messes and the other half of her time cleaning them up,” Louis retorts without missing a beat.

There’s a moment of silence before Niall hums in agreement. “Fair point,” he relents. “Although she only does that to get rid of those crazy women you hire as nannies.”

Louis narrows his eyes at Niall’s words. “Did she tell you that?”

“Well, that depends on which answer is the right answer,” Niall replies simply, seemingly unbothered. Louis is honestly going to lose his mind if Olivia keeps telling every person she sees that she hates her nannies. “I’m going to go with no, she did not tell me that.”

“Nice,” Louis snaps before pinching the bridge of his nose as he remembers his other predicament. “Niall, I need you to do me a favor and you aren’t allowed to ask questions.”

On the other end of the line, Niall cheers loudly making Louis pull the phone away from his ear. He pulls it back in time to hear, “You want Harry’s number, don’t you?”

Louis blinks at the wall across from him in confusion and then in disbelief, he asks, “ _What_?”

How could Niall have possibly known? Unless Olivia has been terrorizing him about having Harry as a nanny too… It’s a possibility he’s not going to cross out just yet.

“He’s your type, mate! Don’t think I don’t know what your type is. You always go after those curly-haired, lanky blokes every time we go out to a bar together,” Niall teases, sound incredibly pleased with himself.

Louis is too busy gawking to formulate a response. Niall thinks that Louis wants Harry’s number to— _ask him out_?

Before Louis’ brain starts function properly, Niall starts rattling off numbers and immediately Louis grabs the pen and paper on his bedside table, writing down the numbers before he can think better of it. He does technically need it after all, even if not for the reason Niall seems to think.

Just to get the last word, Louis says, “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I hope Greg burns down your flat. Goodnight,” and then he hangs up rather aggressively.

It’s whatever.

-

Louis likes to think he’s a relatively composed person but he doesn’t think he’s had nerves this bad since the first time he was told Olivia was going to be his daughter.

This is a whole different type of nervous though.

One would think he actually was asking Harry out from the way he hesitates to call him the next day but in reality, he’s too busy trying to figure out what would make a university student want to come live with a twenty-seven old man and his seven year old daughter as a nanny.

Nothing would convince him to do it and there’s also the fact that Harry is practically a stranger.

If Louis weren’t so completely wrapped around Olivia’s finger, he wouldn’t even consider this as an option. Yet here he is, about to make a call that could potentially leave him wallowing in his own shame for the rest of his life.

He stares at his phone for a few more minutes and then finally, dials the number. It takes another minute for him to actually press call.

At that point, he knows there’s no turning back, especially when Harry answers the phone, his voice a lazy drawl. “Hello?”

“Um. Hi.” _Wow. Real eloquent. Nice going, Tomlinson._ “Did I call at a bad time?”

There’s a beat of silence before Harry says in blatant disbelief, “Mr. Tomlinson?”

“The one and only,” Louis replies weakly. “I can call back later if I interrupted—“

“ _No_ ,” Harry almost shouts into the phone and Louis winces a little but then almost immediately, Harry is talking again. “Sorry, yeah, it’s a great time. I—um, how can I help you? Need a babysitter for the night again?”

Louis wants to sink into a hole, honestly. “Not exactly…” he replies slowly and he casts a look over at the living room where Olivia is watching some random telly show. “Are you sure it’s a great time? We might be on the phone for a while.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Harry assures quickly. “I was just catching up on some work for one of my classes.”

Again, Louis is reminded that Harry is a twenty-one year old still in _school_ and there’s probably a billion better things he has to do than take care of Louis’ daughter.

Before nerves can take over again, he sits down on the kitchen counter and clears his throat. “Right—okay, so, when exactly are your classes usually?” he starts off, because it's probably the lightest question he can ask.

“Erm—I usually have morning classes. Most start at eight in the morning. I think the latest one I have is at one in the afternoon but the professor always ends that class early. No classes on Fridays though. Why, what’s up?” Harry asks and if Louis isn’t mistaken his voice sounds a little hopeful. It might just be the butterflies in his stomach talking.

Louis doesn’t even bother answering Harry’s question, just skipping to another one of his own. “Do you live in a dorm? Or in a flat?”

Harry should be suspicious at this point but oddly enough, he sounds cheerful when he says, “I’m actually couch surfing at the moment. My last flatmate moved and I didn’t have enough to cover rent by myself. I’ve been looking around though and if nothing works out, I’ll just dorm next semester.”

 _It’s almost as if the stars are aligning for this to work out_ , Louis thinks to himself. Then he quickly shakes that thought out of his head because he dropped the ‘big believer in fate’ thing about five years ago when his best friend died in a car crash.

“Okay, I’m going to come right out with it, if that’s alright with you?” Louis tells him and before Harry can reply, he says, “I’m willing to offer you eight hundred pounds a week to be a live-in nanny for Olivia.”

There’s nothing but the sound of Harry’s quiet breathing on the other line for a few moments but then the silence breaks when Harry incredulously asks, “ _Eight hundred_ pounds a week to take care of Olivia?”

“Is that too low?” Louis worries, biting his bottom lip. “I paid most of her nannies about six hundred but I understand that isn’t something you expected to do. Does nine hundred sound better?”

“ _Nine hundred_?” Harry repeats, sounding rather aghast.

Louis sighs but relents, “Alright, a thousand but that’s as high as I’m willing to go.”

“Mr. Tomlinson, what—” Harry starts but Louis cuts him off before he can do something like refuse.

“Just hear me out,” Louis requests and when he’s met with only the sound of Harry’s breathing again, he continues. “Olivia hates all her nannies and at this point, she’s causing them bodily harm to get rid of them. You’re the only person she’s ever liked and she keeps asking for you. Just give it a try for a week and if it doesn’t work out, I understand. Please just give Olivia a chance?” He requests feebly, still biting on his bottom lip.

When Harry does speak, it’s him saying, “Are you sure you want _me_ to be her nanny? I’ve never been a nanny before in my life.”

“It seems you’re really my only choice according to Olivia,” Louis informs tiredly. “Just please consider it Harry? She’ll be in school when you have your classes so that won’t be a problem and all expenses like food and other basic comforts will be taken care of by me. There’s a guestroom for you to make your own and I promise, taking care of her really isn’t that hard. I’m just really busy.”

After a beat of silence, “Alright, Mr. Tomlinson. I guess I can give it a try. A week you said?”

Louis sighs exhales sharply in relief before nodding. It takes him a moment to remember that Harry can’t see him. “A week,” he confirms. “I can send someone to help you bring your stuff over whenever you’re ready. Olivia is going to be so happy, you have no idea.”

“Is tomorrow alright, Mr. Tomlinson?” Harry checks, still sounding a little on the incredulous side. “I mean, the quicker the better, yeah?”

Louis takes a moment and thanks the world for letting someone like Harry Styles come into his life. “That would be great, Harry. Also, please call me Louis. We’re going to be living together if this all works out after all.”

“Um,” Harry replies almost blankly before continuing with, “Okay, Mr. Tomlin—I mean Louis. Okay, Louis. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“You most definitely will,” Louis informs and there’s a smile spreading across his face. There’s a sweet feeling of victory running through his veins. “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry hums quietly on the other hand, a song that Louis can’t place. “The pleasure’s all mine,” he assures quietly.

Louis’ smile widens, eyes crinkling in the corners. “I hope you have a good day, Harry. We’ll speak soon.”

“I look forward to it,” Harry mumbles and then there’s a beep that signals the younger man has hung up. For a few seconds, Louis just smiles at his phone, pleased with how things turned out.

He didn’t actually expect Harry to agree but he was really, really hoping he would for Olivia’s sake. It seems that even if fate isn’t something he believes in anymore, it’s working things out for him this time.

✿ ✿ ✿

How Harry finds himself back at the Tomlinson flat after a week is a mystery to him. What’s even more of a mystery is the fact that everything he owns is packed in boxes behind him and he’s about to move in.

It seems that if you pine enough, the world does help you out.

Well, maybe not in the way Harry hoped but it’s still something. Considering he spent the better part of the last week doodling _Harry Tomlinson_ in all of his notebooks, he thinks he’ll just have to take what he can get.

When Louis called him, Harry had thought that maybe perhaps the older man was going to ask him out because Niall _had_ been hinting at it, but it seems his best friend is more oblivious than Harry thought.

Still, Harry does like Olivia well enough and if nothing else, he can think of this as further practice for if he ever becomes a teacher. He’s sort of really hoping it all works out.

Not to mention that living with Louis Tomlinson is a huge plus.

Harry rings the doorbell hesitantly and he hears a familiar voice shout, “I’ll get it, papa!” before the door opens and Olivia is staring up at him with wide grey eyes.

“No _way_!” she exclaims in surprise before she's racing forward, arms wrapping around his waist and face smushed into his upper stomach, right where his butterfly tattoo is. “I missed you _so_ much!”

Harry laughs quietly, wrapping his own arms around her shoulder and hugging back. “I missed you too, Olive. Can I call you that? I’m calling you that,” he decides, not waiting for Olivia’s response and she doesn’t offer him one, just giggling happily into his shirt.

Louis shows up behind her then, wearing pajama pants and plain black t-shirt. His hair messy and he’s unshaven again but he’s still so achingly beautiful that it makes Harry go weak in the knees.

“Glad you could make it,” Louis says, leaning one hip against the door and crossing his arms as he smiles.

“Thanks for having me,” Harry replies earnestly just as Olivia pulls away, turning towards her father.

She points her index finger at him before accusing, “You knew he was coming and you didn’t tell me!”

Louis just smirks and shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe.”

“I can’t believe this,” Olivia grumbles to herself before she glances back at Harry. “You’re staying, right?”

Harry nods, gesturing towards the boxes behind him and Olivia whoops in glee, walking right of the flat bare feet and picking up one of the lighter boxes before coming back inside. “Well, hurry up then! You’ve got to unpack!” she instructs and then skips off towards the hallway.

“She’s easily excitable,” Louis informs, grinning after her. “You’ll get used to it.”

Before he can help himself, Harry smiles back and nods. “I’m pretty easily excitable myself. We’re going to get along wonderfully.”

Louis just turns his smile towards Harry before he follows Olivia’s example and walks out of the flat barefoot to grab one of Harry’s boxes. When his shoulder brushes against Harry’s, he tilts his head towards the hallway. “She’s right, y’know. You _do_ have to unpack.”

Harry laughs before nodding his head again. “I have a feeling Olivia is always right,” he teases, picking up one of the boxes.

When he turns back around, Louis is watching him almost curiously. “You catch on quickly, don’t you?”

“It’s a talent,” Harry replies and Louis simply offers him a wolfish grin before disappearing down the same hallway as Olivia.

Harry stares after them for a few seconds and he knows right there and then that he’s in for the adventure of his life. He doesn’t mind all that much.

—

 

  *          _7:00: – Wake Olivia up; while she’s brushing her teeth, etc—have breakfast ready (usually pbj sandwich or cereal; depends on what she had the previous day). Pack lunch, too (veggies and fruit! if she behaves well in the morning, throw in a pack of cookies)_
  *          _7:30 – Be out of the house, school is a five minute walk! Olivia knows how to get there, let her show you. School starts at 8 but Olivia likes to be early to hang out with her friends._
  *          _8:00 – 2:30 – Feel free to attend your own business or hang around the flat. Don’t clean up Olivia’s messes without her. She has a list of chores for every other day, make sure she does them. List is pinned on the back of her door._
  *          _2:55 – Be at Olivia’s school, waiting for her. She doesn’t like when people are late. School ends at 3 and she likes to hang out with her friends for another 15 minutes. Wait for her to come to you but don’t let her hang around for more than 25 minutes max._
  *          _3:30 – You should be home by now. Let Olivia choose a snack to eat! Then let her have a shower/make her bath depending on what she wants. Make sure she leaves the door unlocked in case of emergencies._
  *          _4:15 – After drying her hair, make sure she does her homework but she can leave the telly on as long as you’re sure she’s actually doing her work and not just watching telly. If she finishes homework early, let her watch telly! Or whatever she wants, really._
  *          _5:30 – She’s usually done with her homework by now so if it’s a chores day, help her (but not too much, make sure she doesn’t make YOU do all the work. She’s good at getting people to do what she wants)._
  *          _6:30 – Olivia should finish her chores and if not, tell her to finish the next day. Let her do whatever she wants for the next half an hour._
  *          _7:00 – Have dinner (usually something you can just stick in the microwave or order take out if Olivia decides she wants some). Let her do whatever she wants after dinner but keep an eye on her. Nothing dangerous. If you can find a way to make her do something on the more educational side, go for it._
  *          _8:30 – Put her in bed and tuck her in. Make sure her night light is on. Sometimes she’ll go earlier on her own accord. If she wants a nap earlier in the day, shift the schedule according to that. Say if she naps for two hours when she gets home, move the entire schedule forward two hours._
  *          _SIDE NOTE: You can move things around for the schedule as long as everything gets done! Whatever is easiest for you! Give Olivia my love. Thank you for doing this, Harry!! xxx_



—

It’s about half five in the morning and Harry is staring at the schedule that’s pinned up on the fridge blankly.

He’s clearly not awake enough for this.

Olivia has an actual _schedule_ that she’s meant to follow. Harry is supposed to enforce this schedule.

Given, it’s not all that bad but at the same time, Harry doesn’t understand how someone can live their life on a set schedule every day. If the nannies Olivia had previously actually went through with this, he thinks he can understand why they all ‘sucked’ as Olivia so eloquently put it.

Harry looks at the first thing on the schedule somewhat appalled. All Olivia ever has for breakfast is cereal and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—what kind of breakfast even _is_ that?

He decides that he’s taking Olivia grocery shopping later and they’re going to stock up on actual food to eat and not just… whatever this is. Maybe he shouldn’t be making decisions like this on the first day of the job but frankly, he doesn’t think he can survive himself without at least eggs on toast in the morning.

It seems this morning he’s going to have to make do though. However, he doesn’t plan on giving up without at least fight which is why he starts raiding the cupboards and fridge.

All he manages to find besides bread, milk and two jars of peanut butter and jelly are two lone eggs, some celery, and a piece of cheese.

Harry is more than a little incredulous at the fact that Olivia _lives_ off of this. It seems he has a lot more work to do than he’d originally thought.

His reasoning for getting up this early was that he wanted to get in a run before the start of the day but now he’s too bewildered at this situation to do much more than just sit down at the small table in the kitchen with a hand held to his forehead.

Louis is gone. Or at least Harry assumes he must be because when he woke up, the door to Louis’ room was wide open and there was no one inside. Harry checked Olivia’s room right after that to see her sleeping soundly and then he found himself in the kitchen where he came across the schedule.

After a while, the situation sinks in and Harry takes a deep breath before standing up and walking over to the dishwasher. This time he finds what he wants rather easily—two bowls and two spoons. Following that is getting the milk out of the fridge and the cereal box off from on top of it.

It’s not even _good_ cereal, Harry notes in disbelief.

Harry sets all of it down on the kitchen table before wandering back into the guestroom which is technically his room now, he supposes. He checks on Olivia first and she’s still sleeping, her arm tucked under her head and Harry frowns but decides that if he moves her arm now, she’ll probably wake up and he still has about an hour before he has to do that.

In his makeshift room, he unplugs his phone from the charger and quickly texts Niall ( _wtf is wrong with your boss why doesn’t he have food at his house what do you eat when you come here_ ) but he doesn’t expect a reply for a few hours.

After that he decides he might as well take a shower so he does that and by the time he’s ready for the day, it’s five minutes to seven in the morning.

He makes his way to Olivia’s room and enters it quietly, taking extra care to watch his step in case he steps on a toy of some sort that’s going to wake her up crudely.

Olivia’s blankets are Spiderman themed and Harry smiles at them before he reaches out and shakes her shoulder slowly. “Time to get up, Olive,” he sing-songs and she groans, turning her face into the crook of her elbow.

“Come on, Olive! Gotta get up,” he urges, brushing her hair out of her face and gently pulling her arm out from underneath her. “Don’t want to miss school!”

“School is dumb,” Olivia grumbles back, pulling her pillow up to cover her ears.

Harry laughs before he can help himself and then he shakes her shoulder again. “Olive, come on! It’s a new day, the sun is shining!”

“The sun never shines in England!” she hollers into the pillow. He supposes she’s not exactly wrong. “Let me sleep!”

“You can sleep later, love, I promise,” he assures her and she sighs loudly before sitting up, her blankets pooling around her.

Olivia’s hair is a mess, sticking up in random places and she’s rubbing at her eyes tiredly. Harry’s heart aches a little from how sweet she looks, just sitting there in her pajamas.

She turns to him then, frowning slightly. “Will you braid my hair before we leave?” Harry nods immediately and she sighs again before cutting off with a yawn. “Okay. Thank you.”

While Olivia goes to the bathroom to wash up, Harry busies himself with setting out two bowls of cereal.

By the time Olivia gets to the kitchen, she looks a lot less tired and a lot more excited, practically skipping into the kitchen.

Olivia takes the seat across from him and beams, saying, “Good morning, Harry! Did you put the milk in first or the cereal?”

Harry blinks at the odd question but grins back at her. “Good morning, Olive. I put the cereal in first. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect!” Olivia exclaims, picking her spoon up. “Some of the old nannies put the milk in first. _Ew_!”

In reply Harry snorts and shakes his head. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I promise to never put the milk in first.”

“You’re already so much better than them,” she gushes. Harry feels a warm feeling run through him at those words and he just smiles as Olivia starts eating her cereal. After a few moments of silence, she asks, “Can I play games on your phone?”

Harry shrugs and stops eating his own cereal to reach into the front pocket of his jeans and pull out his phone. He slides it over the table and falters when he sees Olivia staring at him with wide grey eyes. “Have I got something on my face?” He wonders curiously.

Olivia shakes her head. “You didn’t say no!”

“Was I supposed to?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow.

She scrunches up her nose in a way that’s oddly adorable. “It’s just that everyone else except papa always says no,” Olivia replies before taking the phone out of Harry’s hand. “What’s your password?”

“My birthday,” Harry answers before realizing she’s obviously not going to know when that is. It’s easy to forget that Olivia wasn’t a part of his life before last week. She fits in rather easily amongst the spot reserved in his heart for women (consisting only of his mother and sister, if he’s honest). “Oh-one-oh-two.”

Olivia types it in and grins at Harry when it works but then she falters, tilting his head. She looks like she’s concentrating really hard on something but Harry isn’t sure what until her free hand slaps down on the table, making the milk slosh slightly in both of their bowls. “February first! It just passed!”

“It did,” Harry agrees, getting up from his seat to grab a paper towel. “A few days before I came over for the first time.”

She frowns as he cleans up the spilt milk. “I’m sad. I missed it. I would’ve made you a nice card.”

Harry smiles down at her before throwing out the paper towel. “It’s fine, I promise. It’s the thought that counts, yeah?”

“I _guess_ ,” Olivia grumbles but she doesn’t look all that pleased. “Next time I’ll make the nicest card anyone has ever seen. You’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will,” Harry agrees, biting back his smile at the thought that there’s going to be a next time. He briefly wonders if there will be. Whether he’ll still be in her life a year from now. “Now finish your cereal, Olive. I’ve still got to braid your hair, remember?”

That seems to make her shut up rather quickly because she immediately starts shoving spoonfuls of cereal in her mouth. Harry blinks at her enthusiasm and sits down to continue eating his own cereal.

He’s not even slightly surprised when she finishes before him, saying, “Done,” with her mouth full.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full, sweetheart,” Harry chides, the endearment coming to him easily.

Olivia pointedly takes a few seconds to chew and before she speaks again, she sticks her tongue out to show him that yes, her mouth is in fact empty. “Happy?”

“Extremely,” he replies and Olivia rolls her eyes but she’s still grinning as she gets out of her seat and puts the bowl in the sink before running off in the direction of her room.

Harry follows after her a few seconds later, shoving a large spoonful in his mouth before setting his owl bowl on the counter. When he reaches her room, the door is shut so he knocks and he doesn’t have to wait long before Olivia opens the door, holding two pairs of shorts in her hands. “Which one?” she asks him seriously.

He swallows a giggle and shakes his head. “Neither, Olive. It’s February, you’ll freeze out there in shorts,” he reminds her gently and she sighs but nods as she goes to put them back in her dresser.

As she does that, Harry takes a seat on her bed and watches her throw around a bunch of different clothes, looking displeased by all of them. Harry can understand why her room is mess.

About five minutes later, he stands up and walks over to Olivia, grabbing her hands before she can reach for another shirt. “How about I choose for you and if you don’t like it, we can keep looking?”

Olivia purses her lips thoughtfully before she shrugs. “Go for it.”

It takes him a minute or two but eventually he settles on a pair of jeans and a long plaid long sleeved shirt. He digs out a striped jumper a second later and holds it out for Olivia to take a look at.

She observes them with wide grey eyes and then she must deem the worthy because she nods, gathering up the clothes in her arms.

Harry turns his back as she changes and he finds a cute looking belt so when Olivia taps his shoulder signaling that he’s okay to turn around, he offers it to her.

Olivia frowns at it. “I don’t know how to put it on,” she admits after a moment. “Papa always puts on my belts for me.”

“I’ll do it,” Harry assures and busies himself with looping it through the hoops on her jeans and then he tucks in her shirt too for good measure. “There you go.”

She beams at him before turning to look at the full length mirror. “I look cute!” Olivia exclaims and Harry laughs quietly, nodding his head in agreement. “Now you just need to braid my hair!”

Harry smiles before he can stop himself. He doesn’t know what it is about braids that excites Olivia so much, but there’s clearly something. Louis wasn’t kidding when he said she’s easily excitable.

Olivia is a ball of sunshine; an absolute ray of light and Harry is completely endeared by everything she does. This includes the way she giggles delightedly as he braids her hair and the way she looks at him with a thousand shooting stars in her eyes.

Without thinking, he undoes the scarf he wrapped around his own head earlier in the morning and he ties Olivia’s hair with it, making a bow. The ends of the scarf fall far past the length of her hair but he thinks it looks cute on Olivia and so does she if her excited squeals are anything to go by.

He helps her slip on her jumper afterwards before leaving her to play with his phone as he figures out what to pack for her lunch. It ends up being a few packets of cookies and a celery stick. Harry is still in genuine disbelief and he’s frankly looking forward to grocery shopping because of how horrendous this all is.

They slip out of the flat at exactly half seven, Harry grabbing his own bag and the set of keys he sees hanging near the door with a sticky note that says _For Harry!_ written in Louis’ hand writing.

As they’re heading down in the elevator, Harry makes sure Olivia’s bag is zipped and that her coat is buttoned properly. Once he finds everything the way it should be, they head outside.

The walk there is filled with Olivia telling him all about her friends (he takes note: Abbey is her best friend, Sharon is a close second followed by Mary. She really dislikes Adrienne and _hates_ Anna. Jason is a twat – he scolds her gently for using that word – and Sean is an absolute menace) as she leads the way.

When they finally get there, Olivia excitedly waves to a blond haired girl who Harry assumes must be Abbey before she turns back to Harry. “Thank you, Harry.”

“What for?” Harry asks, tilting his head in confusion. He doesn’t think he’s done anything extraordinary during their walk but he could be mistaken.

“For listening, of course!” Olivia replies exasperatedly before her voice turns a little more frantic and worried, “I’ll see you after school, right? I haven’t been too bad? You’ll stay?”

Harry crouches until he’s about her height and he nods seriously. He has a feeling that this is a subject he should be very clear on. “I’m not going anywhere,” he assures quietly, taking her mitten-clad hands in his own. “I can’t _wait_ to see you after school.”

That’s obviously the right answer because Olivia exhales sharply in what seems to be relief before she nods vigorously in reply. “I can’t wait either!” She leans forward and presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek that makes him smile. “Bye-bye Harry!”

Before Harry can reply, Olivia skips off merrily to her friend who’s staring at Harry curiously. He stands up and waves at Olivia’s friend who waves back slowly before whispering something in Olivia’s ear. Right afterwards, Olivia turns to wave, too, and she blows Harry a kiss before the two of them run inside the school building.

Harry stares after them for a few moments, an irremovable smile on face but then he remembers he has a class to get to in twenty minutes and he ends up running to catch the bus.

He ends up making it to class on time with just a minute to hastily fall into one of the chairs in the back of the room. His professor doesn’t pay much attention but the students surrounding him glare as he offers them a smile, slightly out of breath.

Five minutes into the lecture, Harry ends up thinking back to the Tomlinson family. That’s probably not a good sign but it is what it is.

He still doesn’t know much about Louis Tomlinson but after his first time taking care of Olivia, the first thing he did when he went home was look up her _very attractive_ father.

What Harry ended up finding was that Louis is twenty-six (turning twenty-seven on Christmas eve), originally from Doncaster and that he co-owns One Direction Records with Liam Payne. He’s known for discovering talents from the streets and an article even said that he and Liam used to spend their time scouting for potential talent at _coffee shops_ of all things.

Most of the information Harry found had to do with Louis’ career and there was very little about his personal life. All it said was that he has a seven year old daughter and a very large family including two stepdads and eight half siblings from both his father and mother’s sides. There’s absolutely nothing about relationships nor anything about Olivia’s mother which Harry finds to be incredibly disappointing.

Given that Olivia is turning eight this year while Louis is turning twenty-seven, that would mean that he had her when he was eighteen or nineteen. It makes Harry wonder how Louis managed to be so successful despite the struggles of fatherhood and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to ask Louis about it. Probably not considering he’s practically no one to the older man.

He supposes he could ask Olivia about it but he doesn’t want to push his luck. He’s already lucky enough considering that Olivia isn’t out to make his life a living hell like her previous nannies.

Harry really has no idea what he’s doing as a nanny though. Sure, he took care of his neighbors’ kids when he was bored in his teenage years but that’s as far as his experience goes. He doesn’t think watching a few five year olds do their homework and feeding them a few snacks exactly equates to nanny material.

Another thing is—not only is he unfit nanny material but he’s going to be paid a thousand pounds a _week_ to exercise his lack of skills. None of it makes any sense.

The only reason he agreed in the first place wasn’t for the money—it was because Louis basically reeked of desperation through the phone and Harry figured he could the least he could do was save the man from being distressed for the next week.

He thinks he can handle at least a week with Olivia.

All things considered, she’s a delight to be around.

Harry knows he’s in no place to be saying this considering he’s known her for about a week and spent even less time actually in her presence, but he thinks that maybe all she needs is a little attention. Not in the completely attention-seeking way but in the way that she likes having someone to braid her hair and listen to her speak and just smile at her.

Harry thinks he can be that for her. For the next week, at least. Or maybe he’s just way in over his head. Both are possibilities that should be considered.

-

The rest of Harry’s morning is relatively normal. He attends his lectures, tries to keep his drooling over Louis Tomlinson to a minimum, and wonders how he can fit grocery shopping into the schedule set out for Olivia.

Harry arrives to Olivia’s school at a quarter to three in the afternoon and he sits on the sidewalk, starting a rough draft of his essay on Shakespeare. Although the ground underneath him is absolutely freezing and he starts losing feeling in both his legs and arse in a matter of a minute, he finds it easy to concentrate.

There’s parents staring at him and he doesn’t blame them considering he is sitting in the middle of the sidewalk after all but he also doesn’t really care. Instead of truly acknowledging them, he offers them a bright smile that seems to put them off before returning to his work.

He’s flipping through a book about Shakespeare’s life that he checked out from the on-campus library when someone hooks their chin over his shoulder and asks, “Whatchadoin’?”

Harry starts in surprise, dropping the book and it falls to the ground with a hard _smack_ that makes him wince. When he turns slightly to see who’s behind him, Olivia is standing there smiling at him innocently.

“I—I was reading,” Harry stammers, still a little taken back.

Olivia nods, muttering, “Oh,” all long and drawn out while grinning. “Is it homework?”

“Aren’t you supposed to hang out with your friends?” Harry asks instead, staring past Olivia towards the yard on the side of the school where he dropped her off this morning. All he sees are parents leaving with their children. He’s confused because he’s pretty sure that school isn’t supposed to end for another five minutes, not to mention the fifteen minutes Olivia is meant to spend with her friends.

It dawns on him that Louis’ schedule might be a little off when Olivia shakes her head, looking confused before she expands, “Abbey and Sharon always go home right away. Mary stays after school for extra tutoring! My nannies are always late but they lie to papa.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, packing up his things as he asks, “What do you mean they lie?”

Olivia offers him a hand to get to his feet and although he doubts it’ll help, he takes it anyways and stands up. “They’re always late,” she repeats with a sigh, letting go of Harry’s hand. “But they tell papa it’s my fault!”

“What the—” Harry stops himself before he finishes his sentence but then continues with, “That’s horrible, Olivia. Do you tell your papa?”

He can’t believe that these grown women were lying and blaming Olivia for their own mistakes and that Louis actually believed them based on the schedule.

“Of course I tell him!” she exclaims, clearly exasperated. “But I’m just a _baby_.” Olivia says the word like it’s an insult and at this point, Harry doesn’t really blame her.

Harry frowns. “Well, that won’t happen with me.”

“Good,” Olivia replies before she picks up a book Harry forgot to shove in his bag during his hasty pack up. “Are we going home now?”

“Well,” Harry says, biting his bottom lip and offering her a timid smile before taking her hand again, squeezing gently. “What do you think about going on a trip?”

-

“I want that!” Olivia screeches, diving for another box of doughnuts. “And that! And that! And _that_!”

“Slow down there, pal,” Harry calls, laughing as he puts a container full of chocolate pretzels back where it belongs. “You can pick two things, okay?”

“But Ha- _rry_!” she complains, “what if I never go grocery shopping ever again?”

Harry rolls his eyes before pushing the grocery cart until he reaches her. “That won’t happen,” he assures her, gently taking the boxes from her hands and putting them back. “I promise you’ll go grocery shopping again.”

Olivia huffs and blows a strand of hair out of her face. “Fine, but only if I can pick four things.”

“Two,” Harry counters easily, examining a package of lettuce for the expiration date. He’s disappointed when he finds it’s a week from the next day.“They can be big though.”

“Four,” Olivia argues again, pouting and Harry shakes his head, putting his hands on her shoulder and steering her away from the sweets aisle.

Once they’re in the dairy section, he turns back to Olivia who’s still frowning at his back. “Three,” he relents, lip pursed. “But not too big then, okay?”

Olivia presses her lips together in a thin line, her expression thoughtful before finally she nods. “Okay, deal.”

Harry smiles, reaching over to tuck Olivia’s hair behind her ear before teasing, “Well hurry up then, Olive.”

She nods vigorously in reply before she dashes off, disappearing into a different aisle while Harry continues to look for a packet of mozzarella cheese he can use.

By the time he’s looking for a new gallon of milk, Olivia comes up to him holding a large chocolate bar, a box of cookies and some brownie mix.

The last one makes him raise an eyebrow and he takes them from her, placing them in the cart. When he turns back to face her, he schools her with a curious expression. “Do you know how to bake?”

Olivia frowns before shaking her head slowly. “No?”

“Then why,” he picks up the brownie mix, “did you bring this?”

She blinks up at him, clearly not understanding and after a moment Harry sighs and puts it back. “We’ll bake it together,” he says, mostly for his own benefit. Olivia just shrugs in response before lifting her arms up, a gesture he’s come to understand is for him to pick her up.

Harry does so and places her in the flip-up child seat in his shopping cart before going back to choosing out the right type of milk.

As soon as they get in line at the check-out, Harry knows he’s going to be mortified before he and Olivia get home because the check-out girl is smiling at him in a way that’s all too familiar.

It’s not as if he can come out and just say _I’m gay_ without coming across as a total tosser otherwise he would. As it is, he simply offer her a polite smile that she clearly interprets as something else because she _giggles_. Harry never signed up for this.

He’s praying he can get through buying the groceries without her blatantly coming onto him but it’s clear luck isn’t in his favor at the moment because as check-out girl checks out a container of orange juice, she flips her hair over her shoulder and smiles a little bit too large. “What’s someone like you doing out shopping for groceries? Have a girlfriend back home sending you out to do her errands?”

Harry simply blinks at her, in disbelief that she was so blunt about it. Then he wonders to himself, _why can’t I do that to Louis?_

Olivia saves him from answering the girl’s question though because she leans around Harry to furrow her eyebrows and say, “Papa’s not at home yet but he will be soon! He’s at work right now.”

It’s a little amusing to watch check-out girl’s face go from flirty to flat in a split second as she repeats, “Your _papa_?”

“Yes, my papa! Are you deaf?” Olivia wonders, looking genuinely concerned and Harry covers his mouth to keep from laughing. “Harry, is she deaf?”

“No, sweetheart, I don’t think she’s deaf,” Harry replies, squeezing Olivia’s shoulder almost gratefully before turning back to the check-out girl who looks more than slightly bitter. “Sorry about that.”

“Happens all the time,” check-out girl replies dryly before she checks out the rest of his groceries and mutters out a price.

Harry pays it, smiling apologetically before he lifts Olivia out of the shopping cart so she can help him carry the groceries. He lets her hold the lighter bags and takes the heavier ones himself.

Lucky for him that the Tomlinsons’ flat is just around the corner so the two of them don’t have to walk far before they get home, Olivia still asking why the check-out girl seemed so confused and Harry just biting his lip to keep from smiling too big.

They’re only half an hour behind schedule so Harry asks Olivia to take a bath while he prepares her a proper meal and she happily obliges, seeming very pleased with their outing. He wonders how often her other nannies would actually take her out of the apartment for anything other than school. His guess is not often at all.

Harry ends up making them spaghetti and meatballs which he knows is messy but he thinks Olivia will like it all the same and he’s proven right when he serves it to her in a medium sized bowl.

Olivia looks absolutely awed when he tells her he made it himself and then continuously praises him in a way that’s altogether completely heartwarming and far too cute.

After she finishes her homework, Olivia informs him that it’s not a chores day and the two of them watch _Lady and the Tramp_ after Harry hooks his computer up to the television.

She ends up falling asleep on him halfway through and he carries her to bed before settling in the rocking chair in her room and finishing up the rough draft of his own essay.

Harry wakes her up an hour later and then the two of them eat the leftovers of the spaghetti with Harry promising to make something new the next day.

Once they finish with dinner, Olivia tells him to wait while she gets him a surprise and he does so patiently, sitting in the living room with one of his scarves covering his eyes.

“Okay, open!” Olivia shouts and Harry pulls the scarf down, letting it rest against his neck.

Olivia is holding out a pink card made from construction paper that says _HaRRy Birthday_ on the front with a drawing of what looks to be a smiling sun, a melting snowman and an oversized carrot. Harry doesn’t know if he’s ever been this endeared in his entire life.

“It’s beautiful,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to take the card from a beaming Olivia. He opens the card up and on the inside, there’s another message written in red crayon.

_I hope u had a gr8 birthday harry ! I’m sorry I mist it. Ur 21 now so remmbeber it costs nothing 2 b nice :)_

When he looks up, Olivia’s watching him with an anxious grin and Harry smiles back before putting the card down and reaching out and hugging her tightly. “Thank you, Olive. It’s the best birthday card anyone has ever given me.”

“Really?” Olivia wonders, eyes wide as she pulls back. “The _best_?”

“The best,” Harry agrees, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Thank you so much.”

Olivia just shrugs bashfully, ducking her head and almost immediately her hair falls back in her face. “You’re welcome,” she mumbles. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Love it,” Harry corrects, placing the card down on the coffee table in front of him. It’s actually one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for him. He’s pretty sure that if a friend of his forgot his birthday, all they would do is text him an apology and wish him a belated birthday. Olivia went through the trouble to make him a _card_.

It’s really that moment right there that Olivia completely wins his heart but Harry likes to think he held out a bit longer than that even if it isn’t true.

-

While Olivia is well on her way to becoming the light of Harry’s life, her father is missing from the equation.

Harry sees him occasionally when he goes out for a run in the morning or when he’s staying up late doing something for one of his classes.

Their interaction is limited to tired smiles on Louis’ behalf and the occasional ‘good morning’ or ‘good night’, neither of which leads to a particularly riveting conversation. Harry is very disappointed by this.

It doesn’t help that a tired Louis Tomlinson is just as attractive if not _more_ than an energized Louis Tomlinson. There are many things Harry regrets and among them is hearing Louis’ morning voice—a scratchy, soft rasp—and not being able to kiss the drowsiness out of him whenever he wants.

Louis is just really fucking gorgeous with his crinkly eyed smile and scruff dusting his face and just _everything about him_. It’s not as if Harry has a type but if he did, he thinks it would be Louis.

There’s something really delicate about him but at the same time, there’s a strength there that Harry finds himself admiring. It’s the way Louis stands and the way he walks and the way he way he walks. A self-assured confidence that Harry usually sees in the cocky arseholes he avoids at bars.

With Louis, it’s different. Despite that confidence, he’s _soft_. That’s the only word Harry can really think to describe it.

Harry wants to know more—he wants to know every single thing about Louis Tomlinson there is to know but he wants to find out _from_ Louis. Not by simple observing and limited interactions.

Then again, Harry is in no place to want something like that. He’s just Olivia’s temporary nanny. Louis probably won’t even remember his name a month from now.

“Hey Olivia?” Harry calls, setting the knife he was using to cut cucumber slices in the sink just as Olivia skips into the kitchen.

She steals a cucumber slice before Harry can do much to protest (not that he would have) and sits down on a chair. “Did you need something?” she asks with her mouth full, “I was doing homework.”

It’s only his third day and she’s already getting cheeky with him. He’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

Harry waits until Olivia stops chewing to reply, “Your father… Is he always gone this much?”

Olivia shrugs in reply, holding her hand out and Harry hands her another cucumber slice which she takes gratefully. “Not _always_. Uncle Zayn’s album is coming out soon, I think. Papa is really busy with that.”

“So why do you need nannies all the time?” Harry wonders, genuinely curious. He takes the seat across from Olivia but not before just grabbing all the cucumber slices and putting them in a bowl for Olivia to eat from.

After sticking another slice in her mouth, Olivia shrugs again. “Sometimes papa needs to go really far away or he has to do something right away and he doesn’t want to leave me alone. He always brings me gifts if he goes away for a long time because I get sad.”

Olivia proceeds to hold her hand out and Harry blinks, moving to slide the bowl closer to her but she shakes her head and shakes her hand more purposefully. Harry is confused until he realizes she’s showing him the charm bracelet on her wrist.

There’s only one charm on it, a rope twisted into an infinity sign and Harry holds it between his fingers for a second, simply observing before dropping it. “Do the gifts make up for the fact that he’s gone?” Harry asks quietly, trying to keep the worried tone to a minimum.

“Well,” Olivia starts but then falters as if she’s never considered that. Harry has a feeling that she hasn’t. “I just—when papa is gone, I can look at the gifts and remember he loves me!”

Harry frowns but decides not to push the subject. It’s not his place to interfere.

“More cucumber?” he offers instead and Olivia nods, popping two in her mouth at the same time and then going cross eyed. Harry laughs before copying her and the two of them sit there for another twenty minutes, making silly faces at each other and eating cucumbers.

It’s alright because Olivia gets her homework done in the end.

-

The next morning, Harry is in the kitchen, sifting through the cabinets. He also might be dancing a little if shaking his entire body and doing little twirls while music plays from the radio built above the stove counts. As he’s doing that, he hears someone walk down the hall.

He’s confused at first because it’s about an hour earlier than he’s supposed to awake Olivia up but then Louis walks into the kitchen in his pajamas, rubbing one eye with his eye.

Harry gapes a little, momentarily freezing but he quickly recovers as Louis opens the fridge, scanning the contents. It’s fully stocked now and Harry figures it’s worth it even though it might’ve left a little dent in his wallet.

Louis seems to think so too because he hums pleasantly before he reaches for the tea milk and takes it out. He still hasn’t acknowledged Harry. Harry isn’t sure if he’s going to.

When Louis just puts a pot of boiling water with teabags in on the stove and walks out of the kitchen, Harry is proven correct.

Harry stares after him for a moment in disbelief but then he takes a deep breath and goes back to sifting through the cabinets. He’s looking for things which might’ve expired that the other nannies (or Louis, his mind supplies unhelpfully) forgot to throw out. It’s already happened once, proven with a bottle of vegetable oil that definitely wasn’t meant for eating past the month of December.

It’s possible he goes back to wiggling his hips like before, humming under his breath and just when he does a twirl, he catches sight of Louis again, standing with his hip resting against the kitchen doorway.

“This—” Harry swallows loudly, feeling a little self-conscious. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Louis raise an eyebrow, tilting his head. “So this isn’t you dancing to Little Mix in my kitchen at six in the morning then?”

Whatever excuse Harry was going to attempt to make dies in his throat and he feels his cheeks heat up as he bites down on bottom lip. “Okay, so it _might_ be what it looks like.”

“You do know they’re under my record label, right? If you wanted an autograph or summat, you could’ve just asked,” Louis teases quietly, moving past Harry to the stove.

Harry watches he pours milk into the mug that says _BEST PAPA IN THE WORLD_ in Olivia’s handwriting. Soon after that, he pours his tea water in and all the while, Harry is just standing there with his mouth open.

“You’ll catch flies, twinkles toes,” Louis informs without turning around and Harry snaps his mouth closed before blinking at Louis.

“Twinkle toes?” he repeats curiously, shifting his gaze away from Louis to the jar of sugar in front of him. He wonders briefly if he should slide it over to the older man.

Louis must be following his train of thought because he says, “Sugar ruins tea,” before he glances towards Harry, mug in hand. “I saw your dance moves, twinkle toes.”

Harry knows he’s turning absolutely red now which is why he takes the initiative to turn away before Louis can realize but based on the grin on his face when Harry is looking away, he already knows.

“Don’t you have work?” Harry asks instead, throwing out a paper towel he left on the counter earlier.

Louis doesn’t reply for a moment but when he does, he sounds further away. “I do.”

When Harry turns to face Louis, he’s gone and all that’s left is the pot and the milk he left out. Harry moves to put them away, all while thinking that maybe limited interaction with Louis is all he can handle because he might explode otherwise.

He’s in the process of making Olivia a full English breakfast when he hears the front door open and close loudly. It makes Harry wince and he wonders if maybe he should start making breakfast before he goes for his run so that Louis can have some too.

Olivia comes to the kitchen by herself after washing up thanks to the banana shaped alarm clock that Harry got her. Some bloke was selling it on campus and Harry figured Olivia would appreciate it.

If she gets up herself, Harry doesn’t feel as guilty for waking her up. He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to be a parent if he can’t even wake his kids up without being remorseful. He’ll work on it.

“Holy crap, this is so much food!” Olivia shouts, taking a seat and staring at the fry-up with wide eyes.

Harry laughs, setting down a plate of bacon before sitting down in front of her. “Well, cereal gets a little boring doesn’t it?”

Olivia just nods vigorously before digging in and Harry finds himself smiling as he pours them both some orange juice. They eat breakfast in relative silence, aside from Olivia stopping every two minutes to tell him good the food tastes. It’s probably not good for his ego but he accepts the compliments anyways.

After they’re both ready (with Harry having picked out Olivia’s outfit again), Harry walks Olivia to school but then finds himself back the apartment since he only has one lecture today at noon.

He hasn’t really had the house to himself so he finds himself walking around and looking at the different rooms. There’s the living room and kitchen which he’s well acquainted with, the three bedrooms, the two bathrooms (one in Louis’ room and one in the hall that both Olivia and Harry use) and then there’s a smaller room for the laundry machines. Well, those are the rooms he knows about at least.

Harry starts checking the doors in the apartment and they’re all closets but then he finds a door near the foyer that leads a room that’s empty aside from a grand piano that sits on the side.

It’s black and pristine looking. Harry doesn’t know how but he ends up right in front of it and then he sits down on the stool, running his hands lightly over the lid.

After an internal debate, he lifts the lid so he can see the keys. As he’s doing that, he notices there’s a random assortment of papers scattered on top of the piano that he didn’t see before.

They’re all messily scribbled notes and a few random words here and there. What intrigues Harry about the papers is that it’s all written in Louis’ handwriting.

At the top of each paper, there’s a different title. Things like _Still The One, Back For You, Half a Heart, Little Black Dress, Why Don’t We Go There_ and more. The titles look familiar but Harry can’t figure out why.

Harry neatly places the papers back before his eyes fall on the piano keys again.

It’s been a while since he’s played the piano. Definitely at least a few months. He thinks the last time he played was his mum’s birthday the year previous. Playing the piano is a lot like riding a bike though and that’s why the second his fingers press down on the keys it comes to him easily enough.

He’s still playing when someone clears their throat. Harry starts in surprise, ending on a sour note and he turns to face the door where Louis is standing with a small smile, still wearing one of his business suits.

“You—uh, I thought—don’t you have work?” Harry stammers, swiveling around his full body and shutting the lid behind him without looking.

Louis shrugs, still smiling. “I do, yeah. I just left a few papers at home so I came back to get them. Don’t tell my boss though.”

Harry blinks at him before asking, “Aren’t _you_ the boss?”

When Louis bursts into laughter, Harry feels blood rush to his face. “It was a joke, twinkle toes,” Louis informs as if Harry didn’t already figure that out. “I know I’m a businessman and all, but don’t take me so seriously.”

“I—yeah. Okay,” Harry finally manages to say and Louis offers him a wolfish grin. If Harry weren’t sitting, he’d probably go weak in the knees and fall over.

As much as Harry has a growing distaste for the way Louis handles things with his daughter, he’d be blind if he said Louis wasn’t drop dead gorgeous.

Louis is still watching him and Harry wonders if he can become a darker shade of red than he already is. Under Louis’ stare, he fidgets a little uncomfortably and finally he says, “I haven’t—this room isn’t off limits or anything is it? I’m sorry if I—”

He gets cut off by Louis waving a hand and shaking his head. “No, no. It’s fine. I usually use it but we have a few at the office and since I spend most of my time there anyways, I’m often just using that one instead.”

Harry bites his tongue to keep from snapping at Louis about how he shouldn’t be spending most of his time in the office. Instead he simply nods and stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Louis watches him for a moment longer before he walks away from the doorway. By the time Harry reaches the doorway, Louis is nowhere in sight so Harry assumes either he’s in his room getting his papers or he got them before he heard Harry playing the piano.

Either way, it’s none of Harry’s concern.

-

The week passes by faster than Harry thought it would; flashes of walks in the parks, coloring in Olivia’s sketch books, getting Olivia ready for bed, watching films, helping Olivia with her homework and just having conversations with Olivia.

Olivia’s presence is really bright, a lot like a flame. Harry just hopes no one will blow that flame out.

Day by day, Harry learns more and more about Louis though Olivia and he’s definitely growing more and more bitter by the day. What kind of person just leaves their daughters with nannies the entire year round?

Of course Olivia talks about her father in a positive light and she defends him constantly but Harry’s just not seeing past the fact that Louis practically chooses his job over his daughter.

Still, Harry has to keep reminding himself he’s not in a position to say anything. He’s just the nanny and he’s meant to take care of Olivia because Louis is unable. He is not meant to lecture Louis on how to properly take care of his daughter.

Harry doesn’t even have proper nanny training—he looked it up and people have _degrees_ just to be a nanny. He has no doubt Olivia’s past nannies had those degrees and it just hits him in the face how unfit he really is for this job.

Olivia doesn’t seem to care though because regardless of the fact the he has no idea what he’s doing, she seems to genuinely enjoy spending time with him and she’s even taken to insisting that she can’t sleep without him reading her a story.

Harry’s not much better since he’s ready with a story before she even asks.

-

When he wakes up Saturday morning, he’s confused because he’s never spent a Saturday with Olivia and he doesn’t know what they’re supposed to do.

Harry gets out of bed, still clad in his pajamas to check if there’s a schedule on the fridge but when he gets to the kitchen, he’s met with the sight of Louis sipping coffee, wearing glasses and reading the newspaper.

He just blinks at the older man before looking over the clock on the wall across from him and it says it’s half eight. Much later than Harry has ever seen Louis at home.

The older man holds out a cup of coffee then without looking up from his newspaper, “I didn’t put sugar but if you want some, it’s on the counter.”

It takes a moment for the implication that Louis made him coffee sinks in but within that time, he realizes that Louis might’ve just made some extra. It’s not as if he made it for Harry specifically.

Harry walks over to Louis slowly and takes the coffee, still feeling like this is all a dream. He goes over to the counter then and puts two spoons of sugar before he takes the seat in front of Louis hesitantly.

He doesn’t know how but wearing glasses makes Louis impossibly better—which honestly, should be a _crime_ in Harry’s opinion.

“So,” Louis starts, setting down the newspaper and Harry looks up from where he’s blowing on his coffee. Louis raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on that. “What are you going to do?”

“About what?” Harry wonders as he pulls his sleeves down so he can use them to hold the mug instead of his bare hands.

Louis looks distinctly amused as he raises his own mug to his lips and takes a sip. “About Olivia,” he clarifies, smiling a little at the mention of her name. “Will you be staying with us?”

Harry blinks.

Louis is still watch him expectantly and Harry probably should’ve been more prepared for this moment seeing as his job does technically end… tomorrow.

“I—I hadn’t thought about it,” Harry admits honestly.

Before Louis can say anything, Olivia skips into the kitchen on her own accord. She’s absolutely beaming as she places a kiss on her father’s cheek (although she wrinkles her nose right afterwards and Harry assumes it’s because of his scruff).

Harry doesn’t really expect Olivia to come press a kiss to his own cheek too but she does before she takes a seat and then she looks at the two of them expectantly. “Where’s breakfast?”

Louis looks a little confused himself now and he furrows his eyebrows. “The cereal is where it always is, Liv,” he reminds.

Olivia just blinks at him stoically before turning to Harry. “Brekkie?”

“On it,” Harry replies, standing up from his chair and walking over to the fridge.

Behind him he can hear Louis saying, “You can’t get your own milk, love?” and Olivia just huffing in reply. Even without looking, he know she’s rolling her own eyes.

Harry takes out the carton of eggs, a packet of sausages and a bunch of different vegetables. As he’s taking out the fry pan and the cutting board, he gestures towards the pantry. “Olive, can you take out the muffins we baked yesterday?”

From the corner of his eye he can see Louis gawking as Olivia skips over to the pantry and pulls out the tray of muffins before placing it on the counter. “Anything else, Harry?”

He smiles at her before shaking his head. “No, I’m set. Is your papa alright though? You should check on him.”

Louis makes an offended noise but Harry ignores it because Olivia giggles and goes back to her seat. While he cuts up the tomatoes and onions, he can hear Louis quietly asking Olivia what she’s been eating for the past week and she answers as she eats a muffin she must’ve nicked off the counter.

By the time he finishes making breakfast for the three of them, Louis seems less shocked but still curious.

“You’ve made breakfast for her all week?” Louis asks, staring at the plate in front of him.

Harry just nods and sprinkles salt and pepper over Olivia’s breakfast before turning back to his own and stabbing his eggs with a fork. He has to admit, the coffee Louis made is a nice beverage on the side.

Louis is still staring at the food distrustfully when Harry glances up again. Harry swallows what’s in his mouth before getting the courage to tease, “It’s not poisoned.”

“I—I know,” Louis replies, seemingly a little startled. “Sorry, it’s just—I haven’t had a breakfast made at home in a while.”

Harry just nods, choosing not to comment about how sad that makes him feel and also choosing not to ask about Olivia’s mother. He’s not sure he particularly wants to know.

The three of them sit together and have breakfast as if it’s a thing they do all the time even though Harry doesn’t remember the last time he had breakfast with someone that wasn’t Olivia or his friend Ed.

Olivia finishes first and then she runs off to her room after swiftly kissing them both on the cheek again. Harry finishes a minute after her and he goes to wash both of their dishes but then Louis is coming up behind him, holding his hand out.

“Let me,” Louis insists. “You made breakfast. I might as well at least do this.”

Harry wonders if he should argue but then decides against it, handing the plate in his hand to Louis and stepping to the side. He stands there awkwardly for a moment before he speaks up. “You can rinse, I can dry?”

Louis falters but then he nods at Harry’s suggestion. “Sounds like a plan, twinkle toes.”

This time Harry doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the nickname. Instead he grabs the dish rag from where it’s hanging in front of the stove.

As Louis hands him first plate, he quietly says, “She really likes you.”

“Who?” Harry wonders curiously and then tacks on, “Olivia?” as an afterthought while drying the plate.

Next Louis hands him a bunch of utensils and Harry takes them with one hand, putting the plate in the dishwasher with the other. “Yes Olivia,” Louis answers after a moment and Harry watches his eyebrows furrow as he works to get a certain spot on one of the plates clean. “She wants you to stick around.”

Harry frowns. “I’m not—I’m not a nanny, Louis. I never learned how to be one. I’m not fit to take care of children.”

“I reckon you’re doing a better job than me,” Louis teases but if Harry’s not mistaken, he hears something like insecurity. Harry pushes that from his mind. “I’ve never cooked a meal in my entire life.”

“In your entire _life_?” Harry repeats dubiously. “Aren’t you twenty-six?”

Louis rolls his eyes, handing Harry a glass. “Well don’t remind me,” he replies. “Cooking just isn’t in the books for me.”

Harry doesn’t reply for a moment, moving to go grab the rest of the plates on the table. He hands them to Louis when he gets back to the counter and the older man sets them down in the sink. “I see,” Harry mutters under his breath.

There’s silence then for a while and the two of them work together seamlessly like a unit. Louis washes, Harry dries. Louis washes, Harry dries. Louis washes, Harry dries.

Louis is the one to break the quiet that’s fallen over them. “I don’t care that you don’t have experience. Olivia really likes you, Harry. She’s completely won over by you. Also you’ve managed to take care of her better than any of the other professional nannies I’ve hired and I don’t know if that’s because of Olivia’s refusal to cooperate with them but it’s true.”

Harry’s mouth is dry and he can’t find the words to say so they’re silent again. Harry stiffly dries the dishes but it’s more of an automatic motion because he’s not even thinking about it. A million thoughts are running through his head.

He’s only twenty-one and he’s still getting his degree. He shouldn’t be taking care of a child—and admittedly, there have been instances when Harry _has_ wanted children, a feeling that creeps up on him randomly but he never expected it to happen so soon.

He adores children—absolutely _adores_ them. They make his insides feel all warm and gooey. When Niall told Louis over the phone that he loves children, he wasn’t exaggerating at all because it’s completely true. Harry loves spending time with them and he loves putting smiles on their faces and he loves that they’re so _happy_. The world hasn’t left its mark on them yet.

Harry also happens to be completely taken with Olivia which is a plus for the situation.

All the same, he’s still in _school_. He has a social life (albeit, not so much anymore. His friends list consists mainly of Niall, Ed and Jonny these days. Harry has other friends—tons of them, in fact but none of them are people he considers _real_ friends) and a lot of things he could be doing beside taking care of a seven year old girl.

Even if Louis doesn’t care that he has experience, _Harry_ cares. He only wants the best for Olivia and he doesn’t know if that’s himself.

But what Louis says is true. Olivia hates all the other nannies and Harry knows this because she’s told him. If Harry’s the only person she’ll let take care of her in her father’s absence, he’s almost obligated to do it.

Harry must be quiet for a while because Louis speaks up again. “I just want what’s best for her and right now it looks like that’s you, Harry,” he murmurs quietly, handing Harry the last plate before turning off the faucet and turning to face him. “For Olivia? Please?”

It might be the look on Louis’ face, the way his eyebrows are drawn together and his lips pull down in a frown—not to mention the way his eyes look so incredibly _sad_ —or the fact that he bought up Olivia but Harry finds himself agreeing.

He nods slowly, putting away the last plate and shutting the dishwasher. He presses the right buttons to start the machine before turning to Louis. “For Olivia,” he repeats.

“For Olivia,” Louis clarifies, his expression shifting into one of relief. “I can—I usually do week by week contracts since most nannies quit but I can put you on a month to month contract?”

Harry takes a deep breath, suddenly remembering this isn’t just anyone. This is Louis Tomlinson, who co-runs one of the biggest record labels in the United Kingdom. Of course he’s going to want Harry to sign contracts.

“That sounds good,” Harry replies, biting his bottom lip. His stepfather Robin is a lawyer and Harry’s positive he’d look over whatever contract Louis gives him.

Something dawns on him then—he’s going to have to tell his mum that he’s moved in with a twenty-six year old millionaire after having known him for two weeks. She’s going to _murder_ him.

“Great, I’ll have it ready for you by tomorrow,” Louis informs, grinning now. “Thank you so much, Harry.”

Harry really doesn’t expect it when Louis steps forward and hugs him tightly because he didn’t think Louis was the physically-affectionate type but he’s proven wrong by the way Louis’ chin fits almost perfectly over his shoulder.

It takes a second but eventually Harry hugs him back, lifting his arms to wrap tightly around Louis’ neck.

He doesn’t know how long the hug lasts—maybe seconds, maybe minutes, but to Harry it feels like a lifetime and he briefly thinks that _yeah, I could spend a lifetime in your arms_ before realizing he’s getting way in over his head.

Louis lets go of him, still grinning and Harry tries not to frown from the loss of his touch. Instead, he smiles back at the older man.

Some part of him is screaming at him though, telling him not to do this but he ignores it because a bigger part of him is telling him this is about to be the best decision of his life.

He hopes that’s true.

✿ ✿ ✿

Louis frowns at the documents in front of him. Nothing is sinking in—they just look like wiggly shapes on the paper and maybe that’s because he’s running on two hours of sleep but either way, he has no idea what the documents say.

He checks his watch and it says it’s a quarter to ten. Olivia’s probably asleep by now and perhaps even Harry, although he doubts it.

Often times when he comes home, he finds Harry in the living room with dozens of books and notebooks scattered around him. He thinks the curly-haired man might get as few hours of sleep as he does.

Louis doesn’t know why but Harry frequents his thoughts a lot more than what’s strictly normal. As in, Louis usually can’t go more than twenty minutes without thinking of him. He likes to blame that on the fact that he thinks of Olivia often and Harry is directly associated with her now so he’s bound to come up now and then.

Harry has been around for a little over three weeks now since it’s March, also known as the month that revolves around Olivia (although for Louis, that’s every month).

Olivia’s birthday is in less than a week and Louis knows Harry plans on throwing her a party with her classmates but he doesn’t know if Harry expects him to be there.

He and Harry don’t talk nearly as often as one would think considering Louis thinks about him at least six dozen times a day. There’s the occasional moment when Louis will tease him, call him twinkle toes and grin but that’s about as far as their interaction goes.

They definitely don’t discuss plans like Olivia’s birthday and Louis thinks maybe they should but he doesn’t know where they would even find the time.

What he does know is that he’s taking the day of Olivia’s birthday off and that he should probably tell Harry that when he gets the chance.

The phone rings then, startling Louis. He’s been staring blankly at a dull spot on his desk since words aren’t making sense to his eyes anymore and he immediately feels guilty as he reaches for the phone.

“I think I’m dying,” the person on other line says as soon as Louis picks up. It’s obvious how tired he is that it takes him a moment to realize it’s Liam speaking to him.

Louis laughs bitterly but it comes out slower than usual. “Get in line, Payno.”

“Really funny,” Liam snaps on the other end and it makes Louis smile. “I honestly think I’m dying. I haven’t been able to move for the last hour. Do you think my assistant will carry me out if I beg enough?”

“I doubt it,” Louis snorts, “and don’t ask me either because that’s not happening.”

Liam sighs on the other end before musing, “Maybe I should just get a bed in here. It would make my life a lot easier.”

“Please don’t,” Louis groans. “Let’s just call it a night, yeah? We’re not doing anything that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“You make a wonderful point,” Liam agrees. “I’ll meet you outside in ten?”

“Cheers,” Louis replies before putting the phone down. He sighs heavily before standing up and stretching his limbs. He’s been sitting in that chair for the last three hours at least and he thinks he needs to invest in a comfier one because his arse hurts.

He packs his things up and waves bye to his assistant Delilah before taking the elevator down to the car park on the ground floor where he finds Liam waiting for him.

Louis raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Their cars are parked rather close to the elevator and it takes less than a minute for the both of them to reach their respected vehicles.

Before Louis opens his car door, he turns so he can see Liam over the hood of his car. “Li, you’re coming to Olivia’s birthday party, right?”

“Olivia’s having a birthday party?” Liam asks back, resting his arms over the hood of his own car and watching Louis curiously. “When did you get the time to plan that?”

“I—um, I didn’t,” Louis replies, biting his bottom lip. He feel strangely guilty admitting that. “Her nanny did.”

Liam is now staring at him amusedly for some reason Louis can’t fathom. “Right, right. Harry, is it?”

Louis nods in reply, unsure what to say. It turns out he doesn’t have to say anything because Liam continues.

“Of course I’ll be there then. Just text me the details,” Liam says, smiling before he gets into his car and Louis stands there for a moment, fidgeting before he gets into his own car.

He lets Liam pull out first, mostly because he stares at his windshield for a good moment trying to understand whether as a father, he should’ve been the one to plan Olivia’s birthday party.

Eventually, he decides not to dwell on it but the thought is still there in the back of his mind, even when he enters his flat twenty minutes later.

It’s still a shock to him when he doesn’t find it a mess but rather, the flat is clean. Cleaner than it usually is even when he is home.

Neither Harry or Olivia are in sight but he can hear noises coming from the kitchen which is why after hanging up his coat and setting down his briefcase, he heads there.

Louis finds Harry sitting on top of the counter, earphones hanging loosely around his neck and a notebook in his hand. He’s scribbling something down with a concentrated look on his face and beside him, there’s a textbook.

Louis would almost say that Harry doesn’t even know he’s there and then after a moment, he realizes that just might be the case since the curly-haired man still hasn’t looked up from his work.

“Studying hard, twinkle toes?” Louis wonders quietly and he hides his amusement at the way Harry’s head snaps up, eyes wide.

He looks a lot like a startled kitten when he makes that face and it’s hard not to smile but Louis manages it considerably well.

“You’re—you’re home early,” is what Harry replies, shutting his notebook and putting it to the side before hopping off the counter. There isn’t much room to hop considering that his legs nearly reach the floor anyways.

Louis shrugs. “I suppose I am. I was feeling tired.”

Harry just nods, accepting this and then there’s hesitance written across his face that Louis doesn’t understand. Harry’s a lot like an open book—his emotions are clearly expressed through his face but Louis never knows what the thoughts behind those emotions are. An example being right now, he has no idea what Harry’s thinking even though he really wishes he did.

“Olivia and I made cookies,” Harry mumbles, bringing Louis’ attention to the tray near the microwave. “She said that chocolate chip was your favorite.”

Louis’ mouth dries and he looks back at Harry. “You made cookies for me?”

“Well, I guess,” he replies, cheeks flushed _. It’s a good look on him_ , Louis notes briefly. “Olivia wanted to give them to you herself but she fell asleep about an hour ago.”

Louis doesn’t know much about Harry. Not as much as he should considering that he lets the man take care of his daughter.

What he does undeniably know is that Harry is an excellent baker. In the last few weeks alone, Louis thinks he’s consumed the best baked goods he’s ever had in his life and that’s saying a lot since he’s travelled all around the world.

“Thank you then,” Louis says, reaching up to loosen his tie as he walks forward to take a cookie. He sees Harry’s eyes track the motion of his hand but then the curly-haired man seems to shake himself out of it.

“It was a pleasure,” Harry mumbles before he grabs his notebook and textbook off the counter, holding them against his chest. “There’s some leftovers from dinner in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

Then before Louis can say anything, Harry walks past him out of the kitchen. Their shoulders brush momentarily and Harry falters but then keeps going.

Louis stares at the doorway for a while before he grabs a cookie and sits down on one of the chairs, thinking back on their brief interaction.

There’s something about Harry that has a hold of Louis’ attention and Louis doesn’t think the way his cheeks flush or laughter bubbles out of his cherry colored lips count.

He swears he’ll figure it out one day.

-

Olivia’s birthday falls on a Friday. The sixth of March.

Louis has the date memorized inside and out, knowing that if there’s any way to get on Olivia’s bad side it’s to forget her birthday. He’s never done it himself but he’s seen her ostracize friends (that she eventually made up with) simply because they forgot. It’s a day she takes rather seriously—even more seriously than _Christmas_.

Instead of waking Louis up at six in the morning on Christmas, she does it on her birthday instead.

Which is why Louis is surprised when he wakes up and the clock next to him says that it’s ten in the morning. He’s sure he’s dreaming for a second but then the sunlight hitting him directly in the eyes says a different story.

When he checks Olivia’s room it’s empty which makes sense since it’s a Friday morning and she should be at school but at the same time, it makes Louis’ chest feel heavy.

He forgets about it when he finds Harry in the kitchen, dancing around in a way that Louis is almost used to at this point and half his hair is tied into a bun.

It’s a look Louis hasn’t seen before on him and he finds that he rather likes it, even if he enjoys the surprise of Harry wearing a new headscarf every day.

Harry is clearly busy, with about five different bowls surrounding him and a dozen books laid out on the table. Louis quickly comes to the realization that they’re cookbooks and Harry is most probably doing all of this for Olivia’s birthday party later in the afternoon.

“Can I help?” Louis asks before he can think it through and Harry doesn’t even flinch this time which Louis considers a success.

Instead, Harry turns to face him with a crazed look in his eye. “Can you—thank _God_ , you’re here. Alright, do you think you could run to the nearest convenience store and grab me some plastic utensils? Spoons, forks, the whole bundle? Also I need napkins, paper plates and bowls?”

Louis just blinks at him, perplexed because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Harry talk this much all at once. It doesn’t stop there though.

“Shit. I need some eggs and flour as well, I’m running out. Do you think you could get that too? In fact, I need some vegetable oil along with some cinnamon and paprika. Also _carrots_ , lots and lots of carrots. I haven’t baked for this many people in so long, I forgot how much of everything I need. Louis, please, can you—?”

Louis cuts him off, raising both hands to stop him. “Okay, yes, sure. Of course.”

Harry breathes a sigh of relief, reaching up to wipe his brow and leaving a trace of flour behind instead that Louis chooses not to point out. “You’re the best, thank you. Also, paper cups! Fuck, how could I forget paper cups? Just all of that stuff, you know, the whole deal. All of it, please. As soon as possible,” he pleads and then he adds on, “Make sure all the napkins are Justin Bieber themed though.”

“What? Why do they have to be Justin Bieber themed?” Louis asks incredulously.

“Don’t ask questions like that, just please _go_ ,” Harry replies, sounding frazzled.

Louis gawks at him. “I don’t understand, why do—“

“Just go with it,” Harry hisses in reply. He reminds Louis of an angry kitten. Maybe Harry _is_ a kitten. Louis isn’t quite sure. “Get dressed and just please go buy everything I asked for.”

“What’s wrong with my pajamas?”

“Louis, are you _serious_?”

“Yes, I’m _serious_. Is anyone going to care if I go out like this?”

Harry turns to him with a scowl. “I can’t _believe_ you’re wasting my time arguing about this right now. I am attempting to bake two cakes, cupcakes, cookies _and_ make homemade ice cream for _your_ daughter’s birthday party. I really do not have the time for you to tell me you can’t fucking change into one of your billion suits.”

Louis’ mouth is practically wide open now as he stares at Harry whose face is more of a mixture of a scowl and a distressed pout now. He didn’t think Harry had it in him. “I don’t have a _billion_ suits,” Louis replies defensively.

He watches as Harry takes a deep breath and pastes a large smile onto his face. “Okay. I’m sure you don’t. Now please go get everything I asked for, in your pajamas if you please. Thank you.” Then he turns away, stirring something in one of the bowls in front of him.

Normally Louis would argue but he thinks Harry might actually bite his head off if he does so instead he goes to change. He pointedly wears a pair of jeans and a t-shirt just to show he doesn’t have half as many suits as Harry seems to think.

By the time Louis gets back to the kitchen, he’s forgotten everything that Harry asked for.

He’s a little scared to interrupt Harry again but then he remembers he’s a grown man who can definitely handle one university student if he can run an entire company.

“So I might’ve forgotten everything you said to buy,” Louis announces, leaning against the doorway

An egg that Harry was cracking into a bowl smashes in his hand, yolk covering his palm and he turns to Louis almost eerily calm. “I’m going to write you a list,” Harry says slowly, as if he’s holding in his frustration. Louis doesn’t doubt that. “Let me just wash my hands.”

Louis just nods and waits the five minutes it takes for Harry to write him out a list which turns out to be a lot longer than Louis remembers.

Half an hour later, he finds himself at a grocery store looking for cardamom even though he has no idea what the hell that even is.

Even though Louis got his arse practically handed to him by Harry, he somehow finds that he likes the younger man even more. He finds Harry’s anger almost amusing but also he admires his determination.

It’s clear that Harry cares about Louis’ daughter more than he’d thought.

Also when Louis told Olivia that he likes someone he can have a conversation with, banter was included and he has a feeling that he and Harry have reached that level in their relationship.

Louis pushes that thought out of his mind almost immediately. No. Both Olivia and Niall are silly for thinking that Louis wants to be with Harry. Harry is simply someone to take care of Olivia.

He just also happens to be incredibility endearing and entertaining but that’s not the point.

It takes Louis a while to get everything Harry asked for but he feels very much accomplished when he walks into the kitchen and sets all the groceries on the floor.

Harry doesn’t look up at first, preoccupied with spraying something on a baking tray but when he does turn to Louis, his eyebrows are raised.

“Do you still have the list?” Harry asks, setting the spray down and walking over to the groceries.

Louis furrows his eyebrows but nods, taking his wallet out of his back pocket before pulling out the list and handing it over to Harry. “Why do you need it?” he wonders.

“Just checking that you got everything,” Harry informs, squinting at the list before he crouches and starts to sift through the bags.

“What? You don’t have to check,” Louis assures, reaching for the list but Harry moves his hand out of Louis’ reach.

Louis huffs and crosses his arms. He doesn’t try to stop Harry though because he’s confident he got everything on the list, considering he checked it over twice himself to make sure.

A flicker of doubt flashes through him when Harry stands up with a frown on his face.

“I didn’t,” Louis insists feebly. “I checked twice. I couldn’t have forgotten anything.”

Harry just sighs. “Forks, mate. You forgot the plastic forks.”

“The forks?” Louis repeats, initially in shock but then it fades into outraged disbelief, “The fucking _forks_? I forgot the fucking forks of all the things? I have to go back for some fucking _forks_?”

“Well—” Harry starts but Louis doesn’t wait for him to finish, just snatches the list out of Harry’s hand and turns on his heel.

The people in the building cast him a few weird looks as he gets out of the elevator but he thinks that might be because he’s angrily muttering, “Fucking forks,” under his breath.

-

When Louis comes back with two extra boxes of forks, Olivia is home. He knows right away because her tiny Vans are lying in the foyer.

Louis walks to the kitchen and finds Harry there, whipped cream all over his face.

“Don’t say anything,” Harry snaps defensively, jutting out his bottom lip. “Your daughter is evil.”

That’s a line Louis has heard before but never from Harry. It doesn’t have anywhere near the same heat the other nannies had when they said it and that’s how Louis knows that Harry might stick around for a while.

Also, Olivia runs into the kitchen with a can of whip cream and sprays Harry in the face again while giggling and instead of yelling at her, Harry gasps exaggeratedly which makes Olivia laugh harder. Harry smiles too soon after and Louis tries to push down the urge to kiss the whip cream off his dimples.

Instead, he reaches for Olivia’s shoulder. “Hey birthday girl,” he greets playfully when she turns around.

Olivia grins at him, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly. “Hi papa, I love you.”

Louis smiles down at her, tapping her nose lightly. “I love you too, Liv.”

She scrunches her face adorably before giggling. “It’s my birthday!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up.

Louis leans down to take her into his arms and then he hoists her onto his waist. He notices Harry staring at them fondly as he uses a Justin Bieber napkin to wipe his face. _Honestly_.

“I know it’s your birthday. I just said that, silly,” Louis tells her, teasing. “When are your friends coming?”

Olivia just shrugs, pressing a kiss to his cheek before patting his chest. “I need to get dressed, papa! Let me down!” she groans when he doesn’t oblige right away.

He takes a moment to irritate her, bouncing her in his arms for longer than necessary but when she starts huffing melodramatically, he decides he should probably let her get dressed after all.

As soon as he lets her down, Olivia runs off but not before she pats Harry’s hand and says, “Karma is a dog,” earnestly.

Louis blinks as she leaves and then turns to Harry. “Karma is a _dog_?” he repeats, eyebrows raised.

“What? It’s not like I’m going to teach your daughter to curse,” Harry replies, giving Louis a look as if he should know that. “Now are you going to loiter around or make yourself useful and hang up the decorations?”

Louis sighs but grabs the bag full of decorations off the floor and heads into the living room.

“Thank you, darling!” Harry calls obnoxiously from the kitchen.

Louis sticks his tongue out in reply but then remembers Harry can’t see him. “You’re welcome, twinkle toes!” Louis shouts back and Harry’s laughter rings in reply.

-

The first person to ring the doorbell is Zayn.

Louis is still hanging up some weird poster of Mickey Mouse so Harry’s the one to open the door. All of his baking is done aside from taking them out of the oven and in the meantime, he’s been sitting on the couch and shouting random instructions to Louis who glowers but does as told.

“Hi, welcome to Olivia’s—holy shit, you’re Zayn Malik.” Harry’s voice raises towards the sentence and Louis can almost hear his mouth fall open.

Without turning away from the poster, Louis yells, “Oi, Zayn, don’t act like a guest. Get your arse in here and help me!”

“I think just because you said that, I won’t,” Zayn replies dryly. “Also, hi. I’m assuming you’re Harry? I’ve heard a lot of things about you.”

“Um—good things, I hope,” Harry replies, sounding a bit star struck. Louis ignores the flare of white hot jealously in the pit of his stomach. He has _no_ reason to be jealous.

Louis finally manages to get the poster to stay up and he hops off the stool that Harry brought in for him. He turns to face the two of them just as Zayn says, “Only the best. Your hair lives up to the reputation.”

Harry brightly beams at Zayn and the feeling in Louis’ stomach somehow gets worse. How come Harry never beams at him like that? They live together for God’s sake.

Before Louis can force Zayn into teaching him to do that or into helping him, the doorbell rings again and Harry hurries to open it. This time, Niall’s standing there with a terribly wrapped present.

“Hey Haz! Lovely shirt,” Niall compliments and then Louis watches his face change almost entirely as his eyes fall on Zayn. “Oh. Er. Hi Zayn.”

Zayn smiles warmly, his entire face softening. “Hi Niall.”

Well, on the bright side at least Louis never has to worry about his best friend and nanny being in a relationship. Not that it would be a problem. It’s just—whatever.

Louis watches Harry move to shut the door but then someone else rings the doorbell a second before he can. “Am I late?” Liam wonders, stepping into the flat and throwing an arm around Niall’s shoulder.

“Just in time,” Louis drawls, brushing off his hands and walking up to the four of them. He leans his elbow on Zayn’s shoulder before saying, “I suggest hiding your presents before Olivia sees you.”

Liam nods seriously, Niall makes a face, Zayn scoffs and Harry giggles. That sums them all up perfectly in Louis’ mind.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Louis mutters before his eyes zero in on Harry. “If you don’t help me, I will literally burn every headscarf I find in your room.”

That seems to be incentive enough because Harry rolls his eyes but nods.

Louis grins before turning to the other three men. “Don’t think that doesn’t include you.”

“I don’t have any headscarves,” Niall points out smugly and Louis raises his eyebrows and narrows his eyes.

“I know where you live, Horan. Try me,” he threatens.

Niall stares at him blankly before he sighs. “Fine.”

Louis shifts his gaze to Zayn and Liam who both nods, although it looks begrudgingly on their part. “Great,” Louis announces. “Alright Harry, what else do we have to do?”

As Harry explains how to hang up the rest of the decorations, Zayn leans forward and whispers, “You’re so fucking whipped, Tommo,” in his ear.

Louis doesn’t bother with a reply.

-

Olivia’s having the time of her life. She’s constantly laughing and there’s a huge smile on her face that reminds him of Stan. He wishes he could’ve been here to see Olivia’s eighth birthday but he knows that’s not possible.

He doesn’t dwell on sad thoughts though, instead focusing on Olivia’s infectious giggles and the way her eyes shine brightly.

As far as birthday parties go, it’s all relatively good. At least, in Louis’ experience.

There are no kids trying to eat the paint off the wall, no one wandering into rooms they shouldn’t be and no one pissing themselves. A success in Louis’ book.

Of course, that’s when it goes hilariously wrong.

Louis is setting down another tray of Harry’s cookies when he hears a squeak from the hallway that can be no one other than Harry.

Before he can go check if Harry’s alright, a door slams. The curly-haired man comes out of the hallway and his entire face is bright red, right to the tips of his ears.

“Are you alright?” Louis checks, slightly concerned and Harry nods but doesn’t say a word. Louis furrows his eyebrows. “Are you sure? What just happened?”

“Nothing,” Harry replies in a high pitched voice and Louis doesn’t have to be a psychologist to know that he’s lying. Louis rolls his eyes at Harry and hands him the oven mittens that he used to carry the tray.

Louis ventures into the hallway and Harry follows after him, muttering, “No, seriously. It’s nothing. It’s fine. Let’s go back to the party, Lou.”

Louis snorts, patting Harry’s chest comfortingly (with no ulterior motive at _all_ ) before he starts opening the doors in the hallway.

He starts with the door to his own room and finds it empty before quickly moving onto Olivia’s which is also empty. The next is the supply closet and once he opens the door, he’s a little ashamed to say he lets out a scream of surprise.

“What the _hell_ are you two doing?” Louis shouts and in front of him, Niall and Zayn break apart, flushed cheeks and dark eyes.

“Nothing,” Niall replies just as Zayn mutters, “Shut the door, arsehole.”

Louis makes an appalled face and before he can snap something back, Liam walks up. “What happened? Is it the mouse again?”

Silence falls over the five of them before Harry says in a voice that’s nearly shouting, “What the _fuck_? There’s a mouse here?”

Louis can see some of the kids near the hallway stopping and staring at them and he thinks he should do something about that but then Harry tugs on his shirt sleeve, hissing, “We need to move, Louis. As soon as possible. Just pack up all our stuff and leave.”

“What?” Louis replies before shaking his head. “We can’t move, it’s a fucking _mouse_.”

Harry’s eyes narrow. “Well _you’re_ a fucking mouse.”

“As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, can we continue it later? I’m kind of busy right now,” Niall says from inside the closet, sounding slightly desperate.

Louis doesn’t pay him any attention because Harry slaps his own forehead, eyes wide in disbelief. “The party is Mickey Mouse themed and now there’s a fucking _mouse_. We’re cursed, Louis,” he moans, shaking his head.

“Calm down,” Liam insists. “It’s _fine_. Jesus. I’m going to cut the cake.”

Before Liam can even move an inch, Olivia appears at the end of the hallway with a horde of her friends behind her. “Don’t even _think_ about touching my cake, Uncle Liam,” she snaps, clutching a Mickey plush toy to her chest. “If you do, I’ll sic the mouse on you.”

In his mind Louis is wondering how she even knows what the term ‘sic’ means since they don’t have a pet but then Harry is clutching tighter at his arm. “Olivia can _speak_ to mouses?”

Louis scoffs. “Yes Harry, she’s a mouse whisperer. What the fuck do you think? Also, you do know the correct term is mice, right? I thought you were an English major.”

Harry frowns back at him, opening his mouth but then Zayn cuts him off by snorting, “Yeah and I can fucking talk to deer like Snow White.”

“Shut up,” Harry snaps without looking away from Louis but then his frowns deepens. “Hey, I thought _I_ was Snow White?”

“Yeah, sure, you’re Snow White,” Louis agrees, mostly because now all of the kids are watching the five of them yell like idiots in the hallway. “Now can we go back to the party?”

In his peripheral vision, Niall nods in agreement and Louis reaches out to flick him but then thinks better of it. “Alright, bye,” he tells Zayn and Niall, shutting the door before anyone can argue.

“Thank _God_ ,” Niall says from inside the closet and Louis sees that even Harry rolls his eyes.

They make it two steps from the closet when another shrill scream takes place and then the door bursts open with Niall running out. “I found the fucking mouse,” he informs, eyes wide and alarmed.

Seconds later, Zayn bursts out too, looking a little crazed. “ _Jesus_ , yeah, it’s a real fucking mouse. I’m out.” He makes a move to leave but Louis blocks his path before he can. As if he’s going to let his best friend leave his daughter’s birthday party early.

That’s when Olivia chooses to sigh and when he looks over at her, she’s petting a small mouse.

Harry seems to notice too because he gasps, sound horrified. “Don’t touch that, it has diseases!” he shouts and Olivia just furrows her eyebrows at him but doesn’t stop petting.

“Oh my God, this isn’t happening,” Louis mutters mostly to himself. It only gets worse because Harry turns to him with eyes with realization. “Please don’t say anything,” he pleads but it’s useless because he knows Harry will anyways.

“What about its babies?” Harry asks, biting his bottom lip. Louis really shouldn’t be staring at this mouth.

Louis sighs, averting his gaze before he scrubs a hand over his face. “What the _hell_ do you mean babies?”

“Don’t mice _reproduce_?” Harry blurts out, throwing his hands up.

“Well, _yes_. All animals do, Harry,” Louis snaps. The heat of the dozen confused stares burn into his back but he does his best to ignore them.

“We need to move, Louis! What if one of them eats me in my _sleep_?” Harry worries, looking actually distressed as if mice will eat him in his sleep. Louis is living with not one, but two, children.

“There aren’t enough mice in the world,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Harry sounds absolutely scandalized as he says, “ _Excuse me_?”

Before Louis can answer, Liam interrupts with, “Can we stop talking about the mouse? I don’t know if you two idiots forgot but we have a party going on!”

“Oh, shut up Liam,” Louis complains even though he knows that Liam is right. He turns to Olivia who’s still holding the mouse in her hand. “Olivia, can you _please_ drop that?”

Olivia frowns but she drops it and it bounces on the floor before falling near Louis’ feet. He stares at it blankly for a moment before looking over at Harry with a glare. “It’s plastic. It’s a plastic mouse,” he states in blatant disbelief.

Harry blinks down at it and then his expression changes into a guilty one. Louis groans even before Harry slowly says, “Oh. I bought her that last week.”

“You fucking _idiot_ ,” Louis mumbles, burying his face in his hands and Harry makes an offended noise in front of him.

“How is this _my_ fault?” Harry complains, pouting. Louis truly never asked for any of this to happen.

Louis takes a deep breath, looking at Harry through his fingers. “You bought her a fucking plastic mouse.”

Niall is the one to cut them off this time. “Hey! Let’s all sing a song or watch a movie or something!” he suggests loudly, stepping in between the two of them.

“Wait, I thought we were going to make out?” Zayn speaks up, looking slightly bewildered.

Louis is about to snap at him too but then Liam beats him to it by yelling, “Keep it in your pants, Malik!” and Louis nearly chokes on air.

Harry claps his back rather unhelpfully and it only gets worse because one of the boys that must a friend of Olivia’s steps up to them, looking curious. “Keep what in his pants?” the boy asks innocently.

Louis groans, dropping his head on the shoulder that’s closest to him which turns out to be Harry because Niall surges forward to answer the boy’s question.

“Well, you see… when a man and man love each other _very_ much—” Niall starts and Louis kicks him before he can finish his sentence.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Louis threatens darkly and behind him Zayn says, “Wait, you _love_ me?”

Louis freezes and so does Niall and then the Irish man mutters, “ _Shit_.”

Olivia sighs again and Louis watches as his daughter turns around to face her friends. “Sorry guys, I think the party is over,” she informs dejectedly.

Niall snaps out of it then, shaking his head vigorously. “No, Olivia, we can keep going,” he insists.

Louis claps a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head sadly. “Nah mate, I think we’re done here.”

For a second, Louis thinks Harry is going to argue considering all the work he put in but when he turns to look, the curly-haired man is just glaring at the mouse toy on the floor.

In all honestly, Louis doesn’t blame him because he himself vows right there and then that he’s going to fucking burn the stupid thing.

-

One night, Louis comes home and just collapses on the couch. He stares blankly at whatever’s on the television when Harry walks in, taking the spot next to him.

They sit there in silence, Harry scribbling into his notebook and Louis watching… _Grey's Anatomy_? Or at least that’s what he thinks he is.

It’s oddly relaxing until Harry gasps, whacking Louis in the chest with his hand.

“ _What_?” Louis heaves, blinking in surprise.

Harry points across the room. “I think that’s a mouse,” he whispers as if it’ll _hear_ him or something. Louis doesn’t know why he’s fond of him. He wishes he did but he really doesn’t.

He’s even less sure when he squints at what Harry’s pointing to and sees what is really is. “That’s a fucking piece of paper, smartarse,” Louis groans, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

Harry blushes and apologizes before going back to his work. Louis doesn’t forgive him despite how flustered he looks until he presses a sudden kiss to Louis’ cheek and goes to bed.

-

Another morning when Louis is leaving for work, he sees Harry crouching on the ground and on the counter there’s a dozen mouse traps.

Louis just sighs and ruffles Harry’s hair fondly (and Harry scowls at him) before grabbing his briefcase and leaving. It almost feels like they have a routine now.

-

Louis learns that Harry signed Olivia up for ballet.

He doesn’t know how he feels about that, mostly because he remembers that Hannah was a dancer. He remembers that’s why Stan fell in love with her. He remembers Stan dragging him to dozens of recitals, forcing Louis to sit in the back row with him and watch Hannah do countless pirouettes.

It makes Louis feel kind of awful because he doesn’t like to be reminded of his best friend or the girl he fell in love with. He doesn’t like to be reminded that they died, leaving two-year old Olivia alone. He doesn’t like to be reminded that not only did Louis lose a best friend, but Olivia lost her parents.

At the same time, he can see Olivia loves it. She loves ballet and it makes sense of course—it runs in her blood. He would be more surprised if Olivia didn’t love it.

What does surprise him though is that Harry is the one that came up with idea. He comes home early on a Saturday and sees Harry and Olivia in the piano room, practicing twirls and leaps together.

It seems twinkle toes is an appropriate nickname after all.

He does end up asking Harry about it, asking whether Harry is a ballet dancer and Harry shakes his head, telling Louis that his sister Gemma was and that he helped her practice sometimes when he was younger.

Louis doesn’t say it to Harry but in his mind, he thanks for Harry for signing Olivia up for ballet classes and letting her have part of her mother with her. Louis knows he never would’ve signed her up. The feeling of sadness would’ve weighed him down far too much to even think about it.

-

Another thing is Harry is teaching Olivia how to play the piano. He hears Harry playing sometimes when he comes home from work by himself. Other times he catches Olivia playing too, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Louis thinks maybe he’ll ask her to play for him one day but in the meantime, he pretends he doesn’t know about it.

Harry is doing a lot for his daughter and Louis sees that but he doesn’t know what to make of it. He doesn’t know how he can repay the man with anything other than money but after the first few weeks, he realizes Harry is spending most of that money on Olivia anyways.

That’s why one morning, he simply tapes one of his credit cards to the fridge and leaves a note saying Harry should use that for the groceries and any other Olivia-related expenses.

He just wants to make Harry’s life as easy as he can make it because judging by the way Olivia treats him, she won’t do well if he ever decides to quit.

No nanny has ever affected Olivia like this and Louis has always wondered why. He wondered why Olivia never looked for a mother figure, why she never latched onto a nanny but the one time she does, it turns out to be Harry, who’s far from a mother figure.

But he is someone that seems to care a lot about Louis’ daughter and Louis supposes that’s all that matters. It doesn’t hurt that he’s really cute.

✿ ✿ ✿

“Alright, which story should I read you this time?” Harry asks, looking over at Olivia for an answer. “Peter Pan? I know you really liked that one.”

Olivia shakes her head, lifting her head from her pillow and placing it on her hand instead. “How come you never read me one of your stories?”

“My stories?” Harry repeats, slightly confused. Every night he reads Olivia a story from one of the books on her bookshelf (her collection increases every single time they go to the bookstore) until she fall asleep, often times Peter Pan or Rapunzel. She really likes those two.

She’s never asked for one of Harry’s stories and frankly, Harry has no idea what that even means.

Olivia sighs as if Harry’s incompetent—which, okay; sometimes she reminds him a lot of Louis and this is one of those times. “The ones you write! In your journals,” she explains slowly and raising her eyebrows pointedly.

Harry rolls his eyes and puts the books in his lap on her bedside table. “Who told you I write stories, Olive? When I’m writing in journals, that’s my homework. The same way you do your homework.”

“Don’t lie,” Olivia groans, before pushing her hair out of her eyes. It’s falling out of the braid Harry did for her in the morning before they went for a walk. “Papa says you’re an English mayor so that means you write stories.”

“Major,” Harry corrects gently before shaking his head. “I’m not really the story writing type of guy, Olive.”

Olivia pulls a face before she lies back down on her pillow with another loud sigh. “Fine, I guess you can read me Peter Pan.”

She’s clearly not satisfied and knowing Olivia she’ll bring it up again later when she isn’t as tired. Harry watches as she yawns, mouth opening wide and he knows she’ll fall asleep in less than five minutes.

Harry opens the book to the first page and begins to read, “Wendy, John, and Michael Darling lived in London. One night, Wendy woke to find a strange boy sitting on the floor who was crying…”

Olivia’s breathing evens out by the time Harry gets to the second page, just as he predicted. He smiles down at her, setting the book down and pulling the covers up so they reach above her shoulders.

“Goodnight, Olive,” Harry murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before leaving the room, leaving the door just a crack open in case she calls for him later in the night.

It’s the start of her Easter break so for the next two weeks, it’s just going to be the two of them in the flat. Louis is off on a business trip that he left for the day previous and Harry held his tongue when Louis promised Olivia he’d be home soon.

He’s gotten better when it comes to talk to Louis. He blames it mostly from the incident on Olivia’s birthday—baking and stress always leads to Harry snapping on anyone that disturbs him. Harry would’ve apologized to Louis but the opportunity just never arose.

They do spend a lot more time together now though. When Louis comes home, he usually sits on the couch and watches some show on Netflix while Harry does his homework next to him. Sometimes Harry gets distracted and indulges in some of Louis’ popcorn but then he catches Louis watching him curiously and almost immediately stops.

It’s those moments with Louis that convince Harry that maybe Louis isn’t as awful as his mind sometimes thinks. He tries to think of it from Louis’ point of view, thinks of an entire record company to run and a daughter to raise and he kind of gets it.

Harry still wishes Louis would spend more time with Olivia but he gets that it’s probably not as easy as he makes it out to be.

If he were slightly braver, he would ask Louis to take some time off to spend with Olivia but he’s not quite that brave yet. If he were braver, he also would maybe tell Louis that he’s grown a bit of a crush on him but he doubt he’ll ever be _that_ brave.

Harry actually doesn’t know how it happened but somehow in the past two months, his infatuation with how Louis looks shifted into something more. It’s nothing _serious_ at any rate, nothing Harry can’t shake off but he doesn’t see any reason to. It’s not harming anyone and at this point, Niall’s the only who knows (although, he suspects Gemma might too).

He thinks Olivia might know. Maybe has an idea of it. _Possibly_.

He doesn’t want to put thoughts in her head though because he knows how little kids are and the second Olivia truly figures out that Harry has a crush on her papa, she’ll stop at nothing to set the two of them up.

Considering Louis would never even think about him like that, he really doubts she’d succeed.

Louis is talented and successful—not to mention how gorgeous he is. There’s no way he would settle for someone like Harry and Harry knows and accepts that. His minor crush isn’t going anywhere and he’s completely alright with it.

It’s just that Louis is nice to look at and talk to. Not a big deal. Harry’ll get over it eventually.

-

The first week of Olivia’s break goes well. They go out for walks every day and on the one day it snows, they have a snowball fight but that ends with hot chocolate and curling up together by the fireplace in the living room.

Olivia’s an absolute menace, just like her father Harry presumes. Somehow, Harry’s grown used to it which is why when he wakes up from a nap and finds his entire face covered in lipstick and foundation, he’s not the least bit surprised.

Sometimes, he’ll even play dress up with her although usually it’s just him wearing a crown and being the princess that Olivia saves from the castle. He’s glad that she’s such an open minded person and he thinks to himself that Louis raised her right, even if he’s a little neglectful now.

Harry knows with certainty that it’s not on purpose so he figures maybe one day, they’ll talk about it and Louis will get his act together. Today isn’t that day though.

At some point, Olivia convinces him to start writing stories to read her and he complies mainly because he doesn’t like to disappoint her and also because of the way she beams when he agrees.

Somehow, those little stories turn into poems which turn into songs that the two of them write together when Harry teaches her how to play the piano. The songs are nothing serious though, just things that go nice with a melody and have no meaning behind them whatsoever.

Harry likes that he and Olivia can have fun together, doing absolutely nothing whatsoever. He can easily say that she’s won his heart over now and not feel remotely embarrassed about it.

-

It comes as a surprise when the doorbell rings when Harry and Olivia are painting Easter eggs just for their own amusement.

Harry leaves Olivia to it and walks to the door, rather confused as to who it could be. Louis isn’t supposed to come home for a few days and he also has a key so Harry doubts he would ring the bell.

He opens the door, expecting maybe Niall but then he sees his sister standing there instead, luggage in hand and his mouth falls open.

“Gemma?” Harry asks incredulously and she rolls her eyes, pushing past him into the flat.

“This isn’t as fancy as I thought it would be,” Gemma comments, toeing off her shoes and walking out of the foyer and into the living room. “Where are the other two then?”

Harry is still blinking at her in disbelief, completely shocked that he barely notices when Olivia comes out of the kitchen.

“Who’s this?” Olivia asks, furrowing her eyebrows and Harry’s attention quickly shifts over to her.

“Is this Olive?” Gemma asks delightedly, putting her luggage down and Harry pulls a face, locking the door behind him.

Olivia is making a face now. “No, I’m Olivia,” she replies coldly.

Harry’s never seen Olivia act like this—she’s usually really happy and giggly but at the moment, she looks rather irritated and Harry isn’t sure why.

Gemma seems as confused as him because she nods slowly. “I’m sorry. I’m Gemma, it’s nice to meet you, Olivia.”

In reply, Olivia just makes a noise in the back of her throat before asking, “Why are you here?” to Gemma.

“Olivia,” Harry reprimands lightly, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’re supposed to be nice to guests, remember?”

That doesn’t sit well with Olivia because all of sudden, she bursts into tears. Harry’s eyes widen in surprise and he immediately kneels down on his knees and pulls her towards him, wrapping his arms around her.

He’s never had to deal with Olivia crying before—and maybe it was inevitable but Harry assumed when it would happen, he would at least know _why_.

Right now, all he knows is that Olivia is crying, little hiccups that break his heart. “Don’t—don’t go, Harry. Please don’t leave me,” she sobs into his shoulder.

Harry rubs circles into her back, hushing her. “I’m not going anywhere, Olivia. I promise,” he murmurs and over Olivia’s shoulder, he gestures for Gemma to head down the hall. He’s positive she’ll be able to figure out which room is his from the posters he has on the walls.

“W-why is she here?” Olivia asks though hiccups and Harry reaches up to wipe beneath her eyes. “I’ve been g-good. You’re not supposed to leave.”

“I’m going nowhere, Olive,” Harry reiterates, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m staying right here.”

He doesn’t know why she thinks he’s leaving, but he figures the way to get her to stop crying is to convince her that he’s not.

“Papa s-said if I was good, you would stay. Why is she here?” Olivia demands, still stuttering as hot tears slide down her cheeks.

Harry frowns, wiping her cheeks with his thumbs. “Who, sweetheart? Gemma?”

Olivia nods, sniffling before she buries her face into his chest again.

“Why do _you_ think she’s here?” Harry asks instead of answering her question, rubbing up and down her back again.

Olivia chokes on a sob before saying, “To be m-my new nanny,” and her voice cracks on the last word.

“Oh, sweetheart, no,” Harry soothes, “she’s not here to be your nanny.”

“Then why is she here?” Olivia wonders, looking up at him with wet eyelashes and a red nose. At least she’s breathing normally again.

Harry’s frown deepens when he realizes he doesn’t have an answer. Why _is_ Gemma here?

He would call her out and ask but he has a feeling that Olivia will burst into tears again if she comes in the room without a proper explanation.

“Well,” Harry starts hesitantly before deciding to wing it. “Gemma loves me very much and she missed me because she hadn’t seen me in a while so she came to visit me.”

Olivia is staring at him blankly now and Harry doesn’t think that’s a good thing but the tears have stopped completely now. He’ll take what he can get.

“Is she your _girlfriend_?” Olivia asks in disbelief, sounding a lot more upset now than before.

“No,” Harry replies immediately, trying to hide how appalled he is at the question. “No, not at all. She’s my sister, Olive.”

Olivia just blinks before repeating, “Sister?”

“Yes, sister,” Harry confirms and before he knows what’s happening, Olivia lets out a huge breath of relief and wraps her arms around Harry’s neck tightly.

He hugs her back, even though he’s thoroughly confused. Harry’s not sure but he thinks that just happened because Olivia thought Gemma was her new nanny and that Harry quit.

If that’s the case, Harry’s a little worried for what will actually happen when he has to leave. He hopes Olivia doesn’t react this poorly then or he might just never leave. He never wants to see her this upset ever again.

Harry’s still hugging her when Gemma comes back out, her expression hesitant and Harry beckons for her to come forward as he lets go of Olivia.

“Olive, would you like to meet my sister now?” Harry asks quietly, making sure she meets his eyes.

She still looks a little upset so he’s about to take it back but then she nods her head. “Yes please. I’m sorry, did I act bad?”

“Of course not,” he soothes gently, wiping the last of the tears from her face. “You’re the best, Olive.”

Olivia manages a small smile and Harry kisses her forehead before turning her around to face Gemma who’s standing there warily.

“Hi Aunt Gemma. I’m sorry,” Olivia apologizes before surging forward and hugging Gemma.

Gemma’s eyes widen in surprise and Harry stares at her pointedly until Gemma finally hugs Olivia back, rubbing her back the way Harry was just a few minutes ago. “It’s fine, Olivia. Are you alright?”

Olivia nods, nuzzling her face into Gemma’s shirt and Harry is still a bit startled from Olivia’s little episode, or he would smile at the way she’s winning Gemma over without doing anything other than hugging her.

He lets Gemma and Olivia have some girl time and finishes painting the egg he was working on (one painted the color of Louis’ eyes with a little stick figure drawn in a business suit).

By the time Olivia falls asleep it’s around eleven which is later than usual but she still has a week before she goes to school so Harry doesn’t worry.

Harry finds Gemma sitting in the living room, legs crossed underneath her and she’s holding one of the picture frames in her hands.

He plops down next to her, resting his chin on her shoulder and looking down at the picture which is one of Louis and Olivia at the beach. Olivia is on Louis’ back and they’re both laughing, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“That’s Louis,” Harry informs but he thinks Gemma probably figured that out already. He confirms that theory when she snorts and flicks him.

“Unlike you, baby brother,” Gemma starts, setting the picture from down and turning towards him, “I actually looked up Louis Tomlinson the second I heard you were going to be living with him.”

Harry shrugs, bumping shoulders with her on purpose. “Don’t be mean,” he complains lightly and she swats him on the arm, grinning.

They’re quiet for a moment and then Gemma says, “So… Olivia.”

“She’s wonderful, isn’t she?” Harry asks, feeling his lips spread into a wide grin. “I don’t know what got into her before but I’ve never met a child that’s so great.”

Gemma simply hums in reply and Harry knows his sister well enough to know she wants to say something and is choosing not to; which is why he crosses his arms defensively. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Gemma replies, the corner of her lip turning up in a small smirk. “Why are you so paranoid, Harry?”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Harry snaps and his skin crawls. “What’s wrong with Olivia?”

Gemma makes a face. “Nothing’s wrong with Olivia. She’s a lovely girl.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Then why do you sound so unsure about it?”

His sister sighs, running a hand through her hair. “H, it’s just that—you know, she’s not your kid, right?”

That’s not what he was expecting her to say. He thought maybe she was holding a grudge since Olivia was rude to her at first but that’s _clearly_ not what it is.

Harry nods slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Of course I know that.”

He doesn’t like the way Gemma is watching him almost sadly now. He doesn’t want that look—he’s done nothing to deserve that look. “If you know that, why do you treat her like she’s your daughter?”

“How am I supposed to treat her?” Harry asks, appalled.

“I don’t know, Haz. I don’t have a kid,” Gemma reminds, frowning now. “And neither do you. You should remember that.”

Harry stares at her for a few brief moments of silence before looking away. “How’s mum?”

“Harry—” Gemma starts but Harry just turns and looks at her blankly. She sighs. “Mum’s doing well. She misses you.”

They don’t approach that subject again after that.

-

Harry ends up sleeping on the couch while Gemma sleeps in his room and he finds himself looking at the photo of Louis and Olivia a little too intently.

He knows he’s not Olivia’s father and so does Olivia. He doesn’t know why Gemma would suggest otherwise.

Just because he’s grown attached to Olivia doesn’t mean _anything_. He’s sure every nanny grows attached to the kids they take care of. He’s no different.

Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

-

Gemma stays for a few days and Harry watches Olivia win her over completely. He briefly thinks that Olivia could take over the world with her smile if she wanted.

The morning that Gemma is supposed to leave also happens to be the morning that Louis comes home.

Harry forgets all about it, mostly because it’s taking all his effort to make sure Gemma doesn’t let it slip to Olivia that Harry has a crush on her papa.

That’s why when he’s flipping pancakes and he sees Louis out of the corner of his eye, he flips it onto the counter by mistake.

“Shit,” Harry mutters and he hears Louis laughing at him.

“You alright, twinkle toes?” Louis teases, coming over to poke Harry in the stomach.

Harry lets out a nervous giggle that dies in his throat the second he actually sees Louis. The man is tanned to a golden brown and he’s cleanly shaven, his eyes bright.

It’s a miracle that Harry doesn’t stop breathing entirely.

That’s when Gemma chooses to enter the kitchen, holding a box of cookies and she doesn’t look up as she walks in, simply saying, “Haz, I think these are expired. I tried one and they tasted like shit,” while inspecting the back of the box.

Harry can see the assumption Louis is making before he even says anything and he mentally disowns Gemma. This is the second time this week a Tomlinson is having misconceptions about his and Gemma’s relationship.

Louis’ entire expression changes, eyebrows raising and his hand falling from Harry’s waist. His eyes are on Gemma, watching her almost coldly.

He can understand though since Gemma is wearing his purple plaid shirt over her tank top and one of his headscarves is wrapped around her head. He’s never letting her borrow anything of his ever again if this is what it’s going to get him.

“Just throw them out,” Harry replies and he hopes he doesn’t sound as miserable as he feels.

Gemma just shrugs, walking over to the wastebasket and throwing it out. She still hasn’t looked up. Harry is going to _kill_ her.

When she does look up, her eyes widen and she sizes Louis up with appraising eyes before smirking at Harry. He hopes their mum is ready to plan her funeral.

“You must be Louis,” Gemma greets, holding a hand out for Louis to shake which he takes almost gingerly.

Maybe Harry will just throw himself out the window. That seems like a good plan too.

“And you are?” Louis asks shortly, voice sharp.

Harry is two seconds from legitimately kicking Gemma out before she can do any damage but then Gemma _laughs_ , letting go of Louis’ hand and throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulder that he doesn’t really appreciate. “Well that doesn’t really matter. What I would like to know is; what are your intentions with Hazza over here?”

Gemma proceeds to poke his cheek as if they’re five and nine years old all over again. Harry scowls at her but she just laughs again, ruffling his hair.

Louis blinks at the two of them before his face softens, eyes lighting up with understanding. “You’re Gemma, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” Gemma asks with a grin, as if she isn’t totally and completely ruining Harry’s life. “Changing the subject won’t help by the way.”

“I—I don’t have any intentions?” Louis replies, looking bewildered now. Harry hides his face in his hands, unable to watch this play out in front of his eyes.

Gemma snorts. “That’s what they all say, dear.”

Harry groans, stepping out from underneath Gemma’s arm. “I like Olivia better than you,” he hisses at her through his fingers before leaving the kitchen because he’s afraid if he has to witness anymore, he actually will die of embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m just teasing Harry!” Gemma shouts after him and he flips her the bird without looking back. She continues with, “Fine, fine. I was just getting ready to leave anyways. I’ll leave you and your businessman friend alone.”

“What a wonderful sister you are,” Harry calls back sarcastically. He ignores the butterflies in his stomach when Louis laughs at that.

It continues like that while Harry shows her out, glaring. Gemma just smiles back mischievously, promising to visit soon again.

The second she’s gone, Harry turns to Louis apologetically. “I didn’t invite her here, I swear. Niall told her where I was staying.”

Louis just smiles kindly at him, shrugging. “Niall’s a bit of a wanker,” he whispers as if it’s a secret between the two of them. “She seems fun though.”

“Who, Gemma?” Harry replies before vehemently shaking his head, eyes wide. “I swear she’s adopted.”

Louis’ face flickers a little at that and his smiles fades away. Harry doesn’t like the way a frown looks on his face.

It doesn’t last long though because Louis smiles again, although this one is a lot more contrived than before. “She’s got your eyes. Probably not adopted, mate.”

Harry scrunches his nose distastefully. “Do you think so?”

Louis’ face is thoughtful when he says, “No, I take it back. Your eyes are a lot lovelier. My favorite color, in fact.”

That does strange things to Harry’s heart, making it beat twice as fast and he feels his cheeks flush. “Your eyes are my favorite color too,” he murmurs, biting his bottom lip.

They’re both silent for a moment, Louis watching him with his head tilted but then doesn’t last long because Louis takes a step back and motions towards the hallway. “Is my little rascal asleep?”

Harry takes a moment to sort out his thoughts before shaking his head. “She’s watching some show on her iPad.”

Louis falters for a few seconds before he smiles again. “Alright, I’ll go check on her. However, _you_ mister, you should go check on your pancakes.”

“Oh fuck,” Harry mutters before running to the kitchen and he can still hear Louis laughing at him minutes later, when he’s scraping a pancake off of the counter. He rather likes the sound of it.

-

Over the course of April, Harry learns about Louis’ little things.

He learns that the reason Louis doesn’t shave every few days is because he nicks himself with the razor by accident often.

He learns that Louis actually does not have a billion business suits but a ‘moderate’ twenty.

He learns the way that Louis prefers his coffee in the morning and makes it for him every day without prompting. He likes the way Louis smiles every time he sees his travel mug filled.

He learns that the music Louis likes isn’t at all what his record label would suggest. Harry actually even suggests a few bands for Louis to listen to and Louis ends up liking those so Harry feels rather accomplished.

He learns that Louis is absolutely in love with superheroes and one day when Louis isn’t too busy, he buys movie tickets for the three of them to watch the new Marvel movie.

He learns about Louis’ family—his sisters and one brother, his stepfathers and his mother. He learns that Louis loves them all very much and that warms his heart.

He learns about the addiction Louis has to _Breaking Bad_ and his Netflix account.

He learns that Louis sings in the shower, just like him and that his voice is a soft croon that sends shivers down Harry’s spine.

Most importantly, he learns that he has a huge massive crush on Louis Tomlinson and that’s probably not a good thing.

✿ ✿ ✿

Louis wakes up in the middle of the night to someone crawling into his bed. He’s confused at first, still too tired to understand what’s happening so when he blinks his eyes open, he’s surprised to see Harry standing at the end of his bed in his pajamas.

In his bed is Olivia who’s looking at him with a pout and watery eyes. He automatically knows she just woke up from a bad dream. He still doesn’t understand why Harry is there, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Are you alright, Liv?” Louis asks, sitting up and yawning before he can stop himself. “Bad dream?”

Olivia nods, burrowing into his chest and Louis wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “They were taking me away.”

Louis frowns down at her. “Who was taking you away?”

“The men in suits,” Olivia whines, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “I don’t want to leave you and Harry!”

Well. That explains why Harry is standing there, looking slightly awkward and out of place. Louis doesn’t exactly blame him.

Louis hums in Olivia’s ear quietly, letting her calm down before assuring her, “No one’s going to take you away, darling.”

Harry clears his throat then before he gestures towards the door. “I’ll just leave you to it then.”

“No!” Olivia shouts, twisting around in Louis’ arms to face the curly haired man who falters. Louis winces a little at how loud her voice is for his sleep-addled brain. “Don’t go, please.”

“I’m really sorry, Olive,” Harry apologizes, taking another step backward and Olivia struggles to break out of Louis’ hold. “I’m really tired. I’ll be here in the morning, I promise.”

“No!” she repeats, shaking her head. “Just sleep here with me and papa.”

Harry’s eyes widen comically but Louis is too busy staring at his daughter in disbelief to notice. “Olivia—” Louis starts but he’s cut off by Olivia glaring at him.

“Your bed is _huge_ , papa. Harry is not too big for it,” she says and it sounds more like a threat than anything else. “Just because _you_ have a big butt, that doesn’t mean we can’t all fit!”

Louis sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face and he can almost hear Harry giggle quietly. He’s far too tired to argue about this. “Fine,” he tells her begrudgingly and scoots over so there’s room for both Olivia and Harry to get in.

The only problem is Harry is still standing there, looking unsure.

“I haven’t got all night,” Louis complains and when Harry still doesn’t move, he rolls his eyes and reaches forward, grabbing the younger man’s wrist and pulling him closer. “It’s not a big deal.”

Inside his chest, his heart is hammering and tell him that _yes, it sort of is a big deal_. He ignores that mainly because he doesn’t want to psych himself out.

Harry eventually climbs into the bed, cheeks flushing red and Olivia smiles, clearly pleased. His daughter is truly evil.

They fall asleep like that, the three of them.

Louis wakes up to fingers brushing again his waist. Harry’s arm is thrown haphazardly over Olivia and because they’re freakishly long, his fingertips brushing the sliver of the skin between Louis’ t-shirt and the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

It feels… nice.

A little too nice. Louis kind of wants to lean into it, wants _moremoremore_. He wants to feel Harry’s hands span along the length of his back, wants to feel them burning into his skin, wants Harry to use his hands to bring them closer so—

Louis rolls out of bed before he can finish that thought, hitting the floor with a loud thud and it hurts a little but he shakes it off almost immediately.

He peers over the side of the bed and thankfully, neither Olivia nor Harry wake up because of the noise.

It’s probably stupid of him but he takes that moment to really look at Harry.

Harry’s somehow even more beautiful when he’s asleep. Louis thinks it might be because his face is softer, more relaxed.

His hair is so long it tickles Olivia’s cheeks and his rosy lips are parted, little puffs of air escaping through them. His eyelashes fan across his cheeks and flutter occasionally as he sleeps.

He absolutely takes Louis’ breath away.

The realization startles Louis and he looks away from Harry, surprised at himself. Louis hasn’t thought about someone like that since—well, since his last boyfriend before he adopted Olivia.

Ever since then it’s just been a random string of guys that he’d stay with for a night before disappearing in the morning.

There’s never even been anyone in _his_ bed that wasn’t Olivia or his sisters when they come to visit. Harry is actually the first bloke to ever get into Louis’ bed.

The entire situation is making Louis’ head hurt because he can’t start developing feelings for his daughter’s nanny. He just knows that won’t end well.

Louis has it under control though—he’s sure it’s not even because of Harry. It’s just that he hasn’t been physically or emotionally intimate with anyone that wasn’t Olivia for several months. Nothing else.

It has little to do with the fact that it’s Harry. It could be anyone. It’s just that… right now it’s Harry. Louis will get over it.

He hopes.

-

Hoping turns out to be pointless because a week later, when he’s walking out of his room to head to the kitchen, he bumps into Harry.

All the younger man has is a towel around his waist and there’s little droplets of water trailing down his chest. He has a lot of tattoos that Louis never knew about; a love banner below his collarbones, a butterfly on his stomach, two laurels on either hip. He also apparently has four nipples.

Louis never asked for this.

He doesn’t think his brain is really working and it’s a wonder that he’s not actually drooling.

“Oops,” Harry mutters, pushing his wet hair out of his face. Louis doesn’t understand how he can both look endearing and _so fucking hot_ at the same time.

“Hi,” Louis squeaks before clearing his throat. “I mean—oh, um, hi. Yeah. Hi.”

Then he brushes past Harry, trying and failing to make his brain function again. For that exact reason, he walks straight into a wall.

“What the fuck?” Louis groans to himself before looking back at Harry who’s watching him with an alarmed expression. “I’m fine,” he reassures quickly although he’s not sure who he’s reassuring. “So fine.”

“Are you sure?” Harry checks, furrowing his eyebrows and taking a step closer, almost as if to reach out to Louis.

Louis tries not to whimper as he nods. “I’m so fine. I’m just—I’m going to work. Yes. Me. Work.” He laughs nervously before turning on his heel and heading into the kitchen.

He’s just glad he doesn’t walk into a wall again.

-

Louis can acknowledge that Harry is good looking. He can definitely acknowledge that because it’s a fact he would have to be blind not to accept.

He also knows that he should not focus too much on the feelings that Harry makes him feel. It’s just that he hasn’t been laid in a few months and Harry’s a very attractive male that happens to live with him.

Nothing else.

It’s kind of hard to think with that mentality when he’s slowly growing more and more fond of Harry.

This is all Harry’s fault honestly. Louis never intended to know as much about Harry as he does but somehow it happened and now Louis can’t get Harry’s quirks out of his head.

An example would be that Harry sings in the shower. He sings in the shower and he’s _good_ too but he seems to do it only for fun. There are far too many run-ins with Harry walking out of the bathroom singing into his hairbrush and when he catches Louis staring at him, he just grins brightly and keeps singing.

Another thing would be that Harry isn’t used to being the big spoon. Whenever they’re all in a bed together, Harry looks completely awkward with his limbs all over the place and an unsure look in his eye. That's become almost a routine for them now, since Olivia wakes them both up almost every other night to crawl into Louis’ bed. Louis would accuse her of doing it on purpose but he knows that she would deny it, even if it’s true.

Sometimes he even comes home to find the two of them already passed out in his bed. He doesn’t mind all that much.

Harry likes to dance to the radio and play piano and he stumbles over his feet more often than anything else. He’s an amazing cook but supports the worst teams when it comes to football (a sport which Harry swears he can’t play to save his life) and he’s obsessed with social media. He wears the tightest jeans, has dozens of head accessories and he makes the makes dumbest jokes. He plays golf, doesn’t know how to behave around dogs and any time he yells at anyone, he immediately takes it back and apologizes.

Aside from Olivia, he’s simply the most endearing human being Louis has ever met. Louis doesn’t think that’s exactly a good thing.

✿ ✿ ✿

No one ever told Harry that ballet would cause him this much stress.

He thinks if they had, he would’ve never signed Olivia up for classes. As it is, Olivia loves ballet a whole lot and Harry isn’t about to take away something that makes Olivia happy so he simply deals with the stress by baking a lot.

The entire flat always smells like baked goods. Harry hopes Louis doesn’t mind too terribly.

Usually when Louis catches him baking, he smiles empathetically and says, “Having a rough day, twinkle toes?” and Harry just pouts at him.

They’ve gotten a lot better at whatever it is that their relationship is. A friendly level of bantering, a lot of quiet conversations late into the night and longing gazes (on Harry’s behalf at least).

Harry would be happy about that if he weren’t losing his mind over Olivia’s ballet recital.

When he first signed her up three months ago, he took the time to make sure it was private lessons since she would be behind the rest of the class that’s taking group lessons.

Now in June, they’ve transferred her over to the group lessons because she’s advanced more quickly than all of the other students which Harry isn’t all that surprised about. Olivia is incredibly talented and Harry’s not ashamed to brag about it.

However this time her incredible talent has her cast the lead role in her ballet recital and Harry’s basically losing his shit. It’s just this is Olivia’s first performance _ever_ and it’s just really nerve-wracking for him.

He knows she’s going to do well but the anxiety claws at him anyways. That’s why he forces Louis into making sure he comes with Harry the night of the recital which is in two weeks.

Louis seems unsure at first but he eventually agrees to go after Harry basically threatens his life.

Olivia isn’t even half as nervous as he is and he’s glad because he doesn’t think he candle both his _and_ Olivia’s nerves. That’s just too many.

Despite all of that, Harry knows with absolutely certainty that Olivia is going be the star that she is when she’s up there on stage and that’s what keeps him sane.

-

Harry forgets about Father’s day.

It’s definitely not on purpose or anything because both father figures in his life are great and he loves them both. It’s just that—remembering it is not high on his list of priorities.

That’s why when he wakes up on a Sunday morning in June, he’s surprised to hear the sounds of both Olivia’s and Louis’ laughter.

He stumbles into the living room, rubbing his eyes and he sees the two of them sitting on the floor. Louis is holding a card in his hands and there’s a huge grin on his face.

Harry smiles at the two of them before he can help it and mindful of their moment, he heads inside the kitchen instead to make breakfast.

He finds a cup of tea ready in the mug that Olivia made him (it says twinkle toes and he blames no one but Louis) and his smile widens. He’s even more pleased when he finds that it has the right amount of sugar in it. Louis’ been paying attention.

Louis and Olivia join him twenty minutes later, matching smiles on both their faces. Their happiness is almost contagious and Harry feels giddy as the three of them having breakfast, little bits of conversation passing between them.

Sometime around noon, Louis and Olivia leave the flat and Harry bids them goodbye from the door.

When they come back, it’s late enough to be Olivia’s bedtime but they both still look extremely happy and Harry doesn’t know why but it makes him strangely filled with glee to know how elated they are.

It’s only when he’s getting a bedtime story ready for Olivia that she comes up to him, something hidden behind her back.

“What’s that?” Harry wonders, reaching forward to poke her in tummy.

Olivia giggles delightedly before presenting what’s in her hands.

Harry drops the book he was holding in disbelief because in Olivia’s hands is _another_ Father’s day card but it’s addressed to him.

“Happy Father’s day!” Olivia exclaims, almost bouncing with excitement as Harry slowly takes the card from her.

He’s in a state of shock as he opens the card and the stick-figure drawing of him and Olivia doing ballet is enough to make him let out a watery chuckle.

There’s a message written in Olivia’s handwriting, _happy father’s day I love you a very much a lot!!!!! thank you for everything!_

Harry looks back up at Olivia with tears in his eyes and she frowns. “Why are you crying? Did I hurted your feelings? Did I spelled something wrong? Papa checked it over for me.”

Without answering, he leans down and hugs Olivia as tightly as he possibly can. He already knows that the whole ‘I love you very much a lot’ is a thing with Louis and to see that she used it with him already makes him want to burst with happiness. However, to know that _Louis_ is the one that checked it over for her just pushes Harry over the edge.

While Harry’s still hugging her, he reaches up to wipe his eyes before Olivia can see that he couldn’t hold the tears in.

“Thank you so much, Olive,” he murmurs quietly into her hair. “I love you very much a lot too.”

-

“Do we _have_ to sit so close to the front?” Louis complains and Harry shoots him a dark look.

They’re at Olivia’s ballet recital, waiting for the show to begin. There’s still about fifteen minutes left until then and Harry is getting antsy. Louis is decidedly not helping.

“Yes Lewis, we _do_ ,” Harry snaps before shrinking into his seat when a couple of mothers in front of them give him a glare.

Louis snorts but then does a bad job of covering it up with a cough and Harry flicks him petulantly.

That’s when Louis leans in close to him, lips brushing against his ear. Harry just barely refrains from shivering as Louis murmurs, “This is where all the creepy competitive parents are.”

Harry manages to keep his calm long enough to lean away and raise an eyebrow. “And you’re not one of those?”

Louis’ expression is thoughtful for a moment before he grins and shrugs his shoulders. “Just remember you’re the one who made us sit here, twinkle toes.”

Unable to himself, Harry makes a face at Louis before turning to face the stage where the curtains are still drawn. He forces himself to focus on that instead of the way that Louis’ leg is bouncing up and down nervously or the way that various mothers are staring at the two of them curiously.

They’re not a couple. This is not what that is. They’re simply a nanny and a father attending a ballet recital. Nothing more.

Louis’ fingers are tapping rhythmically along the arm of the seat now but Harry refuses to look at the older man. Instead, he busies himself with turning on the camera he brought and focusing it on stage.

It’s not really his fault when he turns the camera and snaps a picture of Louis’ nervous expression, biting his bottom lip and eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey,” Louis complains, reaching for the camera but Harry turns his back on Louis so he can inspect the picture instead. It’s obvious that Louis’ face was made for cinematography; his eyelashes casting shadows his cheekbones and his strong jaw line is evident on camera. At least if his record label ever fails, he could become a model.

“Can I help you?” Harry asks without looking up from the camera and he can feel Louis scowling at him.

The older man doesn’t say anything though, just rolls his eyes and continues to tap on the arm of the seat. It’s slowly making Harry more anxious but he has a feeling it’s Louis’ coping mechanism so he doesn’t say anything.

When the curtains finally draw, Louis’ tapping is so loud that the mothers around them are glaring _once again_ so without thinking, Harry takes Louis’ hand in his own.

Louis shoots him a confused look but Harry pretends not to notice, too busy with his camera. He also pretends not to notice the way his heart threatens to beat out of chest and that Louis’ hand is warm and solid, fitting just right in Harry’s.

He doesn’t have to work hard to ignore it because suddenly one of the girls dances on stage, followed by a dozen other girls. Olivia is at the end of the line and Harry automatically presses down on the button on camera to record.

When Louis squeezes his hand, he’s a little surprised but instead of showing it, he merely rubs circles into the back of Louis’ hand.

Olivia is the star that Harry knew she would be. She nails every move and every turn, just the way they practiced (or she practiced and he fell on his face) and she smiles broadly when she catches sight of Louis and him in the crowd.

Harry can’t help the proud smile on his face but at least he’s not half as embarrassing as Louis who’s shouting praise at Olivia as if it’s a footie match. Even though Olivia doesn’t lose her footing, she does giggle at them and Harry catches it all on camera.

Everyone around them probably hates them but Harry thinks it doesn’t matter as long as Olivia’s happy and he knows without a doubt that she is.

He thinks he’s pretty happy too, sitting here with Louis Tomlinson’s hand in his but that’s beside the point.

-

Near the end of June, Louis comes home looking really tired and something inside of Harry just snaps.

“Louis,” Harry calls, getting up from his chair so he can meet Louis halfway in the living room. “Can I talk to you?”

Louis shoots him a confused look but nods nonetheless, setting his briefcase down on the coffee table. “Sure, twinkle toes. What’s up?”

Harry frowns at him and as much as he tries to ignore the twisting in his gut, he just can’t. “It’s kind of serious, Louis.”

“Serious,” Louis repeats slowly and Harry nods. Louis watches him for a moment and Harry doesn’t know what he sees but the older man sits down on the couch while loosening his tie. “Alright, I can do serious.”

“I would hope so considering you’re a businessman,” Harry teases to lighten the mood but it does little to help his own nerves.

Louis smiles but he still looks confused. “What did you want to talk about?”

Harry’s frown deepens. “It’s—erm, it’s about Olivia.”

He doesn’t expect Louis’ eyes to widen but they do and he looks rather distressed. Harry doesn’t understand why until, “You’re not about to quit, are you?”

“No,” Harry reassures almost immediately. “No, I’m not.”

Louis exhales sharply in relief, sagging against the couch. “Hit me with it then,” he replies, smiling again.

It takes a lot of bravery that Harry didn’t know he had to come out with what he says next. “Louis, you don’t spend enough time with your daughter. Not nearly enough time. You’re rarely ever home when she’s awake. You work long hours, starting early in the morning and going late into the night. That’s not good for you or for her. A healthy father-daughter relationship isn’t supposed to be like this.”

The silence that follows is so quiet that Harry can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He can’t bring himself to meet Louis’ eyes so he stares resolutely at his own hands in his lap. He’s positive he would be fired on the spot if it weren’t for the fact that Olivia would refuse any other nanny.

“I—” Louis starts before he cuts himself off. Harry still can’t make himself look up. “Am I a bad father?”

Harry’s head snaps up without his permission and he shakes his head. “You—you love your daughter, Louis. There are a lot of worse fathers out there.”

“But there are a lot of better ones too,” Louis mutters before covering his face with his hands.

He looks upset and Harry feels horrible for being the reason but he pushes that guilt down and continues, “I just—it’s just that I think you could take more time off? Spend more time with her? Less work hours? Take her on business trips? Work from home? I don’t know Louis.”

Louis shakes his head and when he drops his hands, he looks even worse. “I don’t know how to be a father,” he says miserably. “Olivia would’ve been better off in foster care.”

That startles Harry so much that he loses his train of thought. “I’m sorry, _what_?” he asks before he can help himself. “Olivia was adopted?”

Louis laughs almost sadly before confirming, “When she was two years old.”

Harry blinks at him and does the math in his head before furrowing his eyebrows. “You adopted Olivia when you were twenty-one? My age?”

“Yeah,” Louis answers quietly before scrubbing a hand over his face. Harry chooses not to mention that his eyes are still wet. “My best friend died that year and so did the girl he was in love with.”

Harry makes the connection rather quickly for how slowly his brain is working. “They were Olivia’s parents?”

Louis nods and ducks his head, whispering, “Their parents never approved. When they died in that car crash, I became Olivia’s legal guardian. I was only supposed to be her godfather… Stan and Hannah weren’t supposed to die. They loved her so much, Harry, and they never even got to see her grow up.”

It takes Harry a moment to realize Louis is crying and another moment passes before Harry takes one of Louis’ hand in his own, squeezing reassuringly. “I’m so sorry,” Harry murmurs.

Louis sniffles before hurriedly wiping his eyes with his free hand. “It’s not your fault,” he mumbles, biting his lip. “She was a dancer too, you know.”

“Hannah?” Harry tries and Louis nods before he takes a deep breath but doesn’t say anything else so Harry continues speaking in low voice, “Does Olivia know?”

“No, she doesn’t. I’ll tell her someday but I just don’t think now’s the time for her to find out,” Louis replies quietly before looking up Harry with an unsure expression on his face. It looks wrong there. “Is that horrible of me? To keep it from her?”

Harry’s immediate reaction to assure Louis that it’s not but he finds that he can’t force those words through his lips so he goes with the truth. “I don’t know, Louis. I really don’t.”

Louis nods as if he expected that before he wipes his eyes again and meets Harry’s eyes. “I’ll try my best, Harry. I’ll talk to Liam and we’ll work something out. I’ll spend time with Olivia more often, I promise you that.”

“You don’t have to—” Harry starts, feeling slightly bad but Louis shakes his head and he squeezes Harry’s hand.

“I want to.”

-

Louis stays true to his promise.

-

“They’re all so big!” Olivia exclaims, eyes wide in wonder as she stares at the buildings around her. “They can almost touch the sky!”

Harry smiles down at Olivia, squeezing her shoulder. “Well Olive, we are in New York City after all.”

It feels surreal to say that since Harry has never even been outside of England aside from his one trip to France with his parents when he was younger.

Yet here he is, standing in the city that never sleeps.

It’s all because of Louis, of course. Louis who told Harry about the business trip he was going to make to New York City and hesitantly suggested that he and Olivia come with him.

If it hadn’t been for months of holding himself back, Harry probably would’ve kissed Louis right there and then. As it is, he managed to get through it by hugging Louis as tightly as he possibly could.

It all worked out perfectly because Olivia’s school ended mid-July and the business trip was planned a few days after. Harry’s own classes ended in the beginning of June so it was almost like fate wanted it to work out. Or maybe Louis did. Same thing.

Despite that, Harry knows Louis will be in meetings the entire time they’re there, he also knows it’s the thought that counts.

Olivia is literally bouncing out of her skin, bursting with happiness at the fact that she’s actually going somewhere with her papa instead of being stuck at home and he has a feeling Louis knows it too because he keeps casting Harry grateful smiles.

Every time Louis smiles at him, Harry’s stomach twists with butterflies and it’s slowly getting worse and worse. After the night that Louis agreed to spend more time with Olivia, it kind of hit Harry that the only thing that was holding Harry back from having completely genuine feelings for Louis was that he thought he was a neglectful father.

Now that he knows it’s not true… well, Harry has more than just a massive crush. It’s _awful_. He’s surprised that hearts don’t shoot out of his eyes every time he so much as looks at Louis.

Niall calls him out on it with a grin that Harry would like to punch off his face. His best friend is awful and Harry would disown him if he weren’t the reason he met Louis in the first place.

“Where are we going first?” Olivia asks, tugging on his hand excitedly.

Harry laughs quietly, reaching down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “You tell me, Olive. Anywhere you want to go in specific?”

Olivia nods vigorously, eyes wide. “Can we go shopping?”

“Shopping?” Harry repeats, raising an eyebrow before shrugging his shoulders. “Of course we can go shopping. Whatever you want, Olive.”

“You’re the best!” Olivia exclaims, squeezing his hand and Harry bites down on his bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely.

They end up in some children’s shop on Fifth Avenue and Harry helps Olivia pick out a few floral dresses for the summer. As they’re about to go the check-out counter, Olivia grabs Harry’s arm.

Harry falters, mostly because he doesn’t want to drop all the clothing in his arms. “What’s wrong, Olive?”

“Look over there,” she instructs, pointing toward a rack not too far from them. “They have scarves like yours! I want to wear scarves like you!”

The rack is filled with various different scarves and Harry finds that some of them actually catch his eye so he shrugs. “Why not?” he says mostly to himself and lets Olivia lead him there.

Harry walks out with a new floral headscarf around his head and Olivia walks out with a matching one. There’s also at least half a dozen more in their various bags.

No one is surprised. Least of all Louis who simply laughs at Harry when he sees them later that night.

However, Louis takes them out for dinner and he also technically _paid_ for all the headscarf around Harry’s head so it doesn’t take much for Harry to forgive him.

He keeps casting Harry these weird looks though—these smirks as if he knows something that Harry doesn’t. Harry can’t ask because it’s quite possible he’s paranoid so he simply responds to Louis’ smug looks with confused expressions of his own.

It doesn’t stop at dinner though. Louis continues to look at him like that for the remainder of their trip and it’s just amazing that Harry doesn’t burst out of his own skin.

The entire trip just makes Harry feel strange for more than one reason.

One of the days when Harry and Olivia go sight-seeing and have picnic in Central Park, a woman stops to tell him that ‘he and his daughter are really cute, especially with their matching outfits’.

Harry simply splutters but Olivia smiles brightly and politely says, “Thank you!”

She doesn’t bring it up later so neither does Harry but the incident stays in the back of his mind, sitting there almost tauntingly.

By the end of trip, Harry realizes something. Over the course of July, Harry’s feelings from Louis somehow go from _yeah, you’re really fit_ to _wow, I really like you, let’s go on dates and make out_. It’s not the worst thing that could happen.

✿✿✿

August is weird for Louis.

It’s weird because he’s not used to leaving for work at ten in the morning or coming home at six in the evening. He’s especially not used to having entire weekends off.

He supposes it’s technically a good thing because he and Liam hired over twenty new employees so the both of them could have a less demanding schedule and now here they are, with ample free time to do what they want.

Louis spends most of that time with Olivia but also with Harry.

Harry who doesn’t have the faintest clue that he’s about to be Britain’s next big thing.

When Louis found the journal, it was on accident. He was tidying up the piano room when he came across a brown journal, doodled on and his curiosity was peaked.

At first, he believed it to be Olivia’s and that suspicion was backed up by the fact that the first few pages were songs written in her handwriting but the further Louis went, it switched into Harry’s handwriting (which he can recognize because the boy leaves dozens of endearing notes around for Olivia).

Then he saw lyrics like _I don’t care what people say when we’re together / you know I wanna be the one to hold you in your sleep / I just want it to be you and I forever_ and other lyrics like _the script was written and I could not change a thing / I want to rip it all to shreds and start again / one day I’ll come into your world and get it right / I’ll say we’re better off together here tonight_.

What really does it for Louis is when he flips to another page and sees the lyrics _I promised one day I’d bring you back a star / I caught one and it burned a hole in my hand / seems like these days I watch you from afar / just trying to make you understand_.

He has no idea why Harry didn’t show him these because they’re not just good, they’re _phenomenal_. With his voice and these lyrics, Harry’s literally a star just waiting to shine.

That’s why Louis intends to make sure everyone sees just how bright he is.

When he went to New York on his business trip, he didn’t tell Harry but a lot of the meetings were about him. Louis figures he’s better off without knowing anyways.

All final arrangements are going to be made in September and Louis just barely manages to hold in his excitement and not tell Harry about it right away.

In the meantime, Louis acts normal. Well, as normal as he can act considering half the entire he acts like a lunatic.

The three of them do things just like any other family would do and it’s nice because Louis can’t remember the last time he did things like this with Olivia.

They go on walks to the park, grocery shopping (mostly Louis standing back and letting Harry do his thing), regular shopping, they have picnics, they go bowling, have nights out at restaurants, go to the beach and Louis even takes the two of them to work with him one time.

Something bad was bound to happen eventually and it happens on the day that the three of them opt to go to IKEA, a furniture retail store.

As soon as they get inside, an employee informs them that there’s a room for kids to wait while their parents shop and Louis shrugs.

“Do you want to wait while we shop, Liv?” he asks Olivia because her opinion is the only one that really matters when it comes to this.

Olivia agrees when she hears there’s a ball pit so Louis signs her in while Harry tells her about the amount of germs that are found in ball pits.

Louis rolls his eyes and tugs on Harry’s arm. “She’ll be fine, twinkle toes,” he assures before kissing the top of Olivia’s head and letting the employee show her to the room. “So what exactly are we looking for?”

“A new couch,” Harry deadpans and Louis snorts, completely unashamed. A few days earlier Louis and Olivia were painting when Louis tripped and accidentally dropped all of the paint on the couch.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with a rainbow colored couch,” Louis replies in the best earnest tone he can manage and Harry sighs, shaking his head exasperatedly but Louis can see the fondness shining in his eyes.

“Whatever are we going to do with you?” Harry asks and his voice is _definitely_ fond.

That’s exactly why Louis doesn’t hesitate to reply, “Keep me,” before grinning. “Now come on, let’s go see which couch you take a fancy to.”

Harry rolls his eyes but when Louis tugs on his hand, the younger man comes easily and the two of them start to look around for anything that catches their eye.

“You know, I’ve never been furniture shopping,” Louis tells Harry casually, inspecting the price of a beige colored couch briefly.

He doesn’t have to see Harry to know that he’s raising his eyebrows. “What about all the furniture in your flat though?”

“I picked it all out online,” Louis confides, sitting down on a red leather couch. It’s a little uncomfortable and he scrunches his nose in distaste before moving onto the next couch. “Seemed easier.”

Harry snorts and when Louis looks over, he’s poking the arm of the couch he’s sitting on. “I bet.”

“What’s that tone for?” Louis wonders, flopping onto the couch where Harry’s sitting so that his head ends up on Harry’s lap.

Some of the other customers are giving them dirty looks but Louis really doesn’t care because Harry is smiling down at him, eyes shining with mirth.

“Nothing, nothing,” Harry reassures before abruptly getting up and letting Louis’ head fall onto the couch cushion. Harry’s giggles are the only thing that keeps Louis from yelling in protest.

Louis does however scowl at him, standing up now. “You’re stupid,” he mutters even though it’s a weak insult on his part.

Harry knows it too if the smile he attempts to hide behind his hand is any indication. “Yeah, well, you’re stupider,” Harry sing-songs before skipping away to a different set of couches.

“That was a lame response,” Louis says when he catches up to him.

“You started it,” Harry replies, sticking his tongue out before he plops down onto a white couch that seems to be a lot harder than he anticipated since he makes a face almost immediately. “Definitely not this one.”

Louis takes a seat on the couch Harry’s sitting on and pretends to pull a thoughtful expression. “Are you sure? I rather like it.”

“Absolutely not, _Lewis_. My arse is a very sensitive,” Harry informs, sticking his nose up. Louis bursts into laughter before he can help it and Harry frowns at him. “Hey, I’m being serious.”

“Of course,” Louis says through his laughter. “Your arse holds the utmost importance when it comes to picking a couch. I apologize for insulting your holy arse.”

At this point, Louis wouldn’t be surprised if they actually got kicked out of the store, especially with the way Harry looks like he might throw something at Louis’ head. “I don’t think you have room to talk since your arse is definitely holier than mine,” Harry snaps.

Harry turns nearly pink as his own words seem to register and Louis bursts into another round of laughter. “Was—” he starts but then laughs again before he can finish, “Was that a compliment about my arse?”

It seems he doesn’t deserve a response because Harry just pouts before walking away to another set of couches.

Louis follows after him once he manages to get his breath back and he finds Harry sitting on another couch except this time, his expression looks a lot less perturbed and a lot more delighted.

“This is it,” Harry exclaims when he sees Louis. “This is the couch. We need this couch.”

“Oh, do we?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow and bites his lip to keep from smiling at the way Harry takes on a pleading look.

It turns out that the couch Harry is sitting on is indeed the perfect couch and Louis fills out a few papers about shipping information, slides one of his credit cards through a machine and then hands Harry a receipt. “Happy?”

Harry nods eagerly as they walk out of IKEA. “Ecstatic.”

Louis rolls his eyes but this time, he lets his lips spread into a wide smile and when he looks over, Harry is smiling too.

They make it all the way to where they parked the car before Harry falters in step, an alarmed look on his face.

“What?” Louis asks, taking out his car keys.

Harry just groans loudly in response before he starts walking away from the car, back towards IKEA.

Louis blinks at his retreating back before pocketing his keys and jogging after him. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“We forgot Olivia,” Harry replies and Louis is confused for a second, glancing around them before realizing that Harry is right.

“Oh fuck,” Louis mutters just as Harry starts to quicken his pace, nearly sprinting towards the retail store now. “Christ, Harry, slow down! She’s not going anywhere!”

That’s the exact moment that Harry nearly runs over an old woman with her cart in his haste and Louis winces as she hits him with her purse.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry mutters in apology before turning to Louis with a frightened look. “Louis, you don’t understand. Olivia could be drowning in _balls_. This is serious!”

Louis splutters for a moment, unsure how to respond and Harry uses that time to rush over to the automatic doors.

Once Louis manages to gain a hold of himself again, he follows after the curly-haired man and then finds Harry standing outside of the children’s area. He’s arguing with the employee from before, the woman insisting since Harry is not the one that signed under Olivia’s name, he can’t go in the children’s area.

Louis takes pity and takes out his driver’s license, showing it to the woman who seems to begrudgingly let the two of them inside.

“Come on,” Harry calls, racing forward ahead of him and Louis sighs but follows anyways.

The thing is that he doesn’t expect for Harry to run right over to the ball pit and dive in. Maybe he should’ve but he didn’t and that’s how he finds himself standing at the edge of the ball pit, gawking at Harry who’s digging through plastic balls as if Olivia’s life depends on it.

Of course, that’s when Olivia chooses to walk out of the ladies room with a confused expression. Seconds later, a security guard walks up next to Louis.

“It’s okay, he just really likes balls,” Louis assures him feebly, massaging his temple and when he turns to look, the security guard doesn’t look impressed.

“You have to be under ten to be in the ball pit,” the security guard deadpans. Suddenly Louis understands why he’s not amused.

Louis offers the man a bleak smile before hitching a thumb towards the ball pit and slowly taking steps backward. “Right. Well. Let me just… go fetch him then.”

He probably should watch where he’s going because amazingly enough, there’s a stray ball lying outside of the pit and Louis’ feet slip out from underneath him. His eyes widen as he falls forward into the ball pit, just narrowly missing Harry who stares down at him with a confused expression.

“Where’s Olivia?” Harry wonders, still panicking and Louis sighs before nodding his head towards where Olivia is standing next to the guard with her mouth wide open in disbelief.

Vaguely, he hears the security guard ask if this happens often and he feels slightly offended when Olivia nods.

Another problem arises when Louis can’t seem to get his feet to the touch the ground, still lying horizontally on top of the plastic balls and he groans before turning to Harry. “Help me up,” he demands, reaching for Harry with his arms.

Harry furrows his eyebrows. “Can’t you get up yourself?”

“If I could would I be asking you to help me?” Louis shoots back as he makes a face at the feeling of dozens of plastic balls pressing into his back. “Come on, twinkle toes, please?”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry replies but then he slips too, falling face forward into the balls beside Louis. “Oh frick, this is _bullcrap_.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, we’re stuck in a fucking ball pit. Just swear!” Louis snaps before groaning. “Of all the fucking things.”

People are starting to surround the ball pit now, kids and adults alike all watching them as if they’re a spectacle. Olivia is watching through her fingers in what seems to be horror or embarrassment. Perhaps a mixture of the two.

Beside him, Harry shoots up, looking disoriented for a moment before turning to Louis with a satisfied grin on his face. “Did it,” he tells Louis smugly.

“Then help me, you fucking tosser,” Louis hisses back and for some reason completely beyond him, the curly haired man giggles before reaching for Louis’ feet.

“ _No_ ,” Louis shouts but it’s too late because Harry is pulling him by his ankles and Louis starts to flail as he bursts into laughter. “Get the fuck _off of me_ , my ankles are ticklish. Harry, _stop_.”

Harry blinks at him before dropping his feet and Louis legs fall straight to the bottom of the pit. He’s almost thankful when his feet hit the ground, even if it hurts quite a bit.

It takes another minute (or several) for the two of them to actually crawl out of the ball pit but once they do, Olivia just gives them one disapproving look before walking off.

Louis turns to Harry in confusion but the younger man just shrugs and raises his arms in defense, following her. Louis blinks at their retreating backs before huffing.

“They could’ve at least waited for me,” he grumbles to himself before walking after them.

He feels the security guard’s glare on him all the way to the car.

-

As it turns out, Harry’s a bit of an arsehole.

Louis goes to bed that night expecting to sleep for a straight twelve hours but for some reason, he just can’t get comfortable. He’s not sure why but no matter how much he tosses and turns, there’s just something _wrong_.

That something turns out to be a ball from the IKEA ball pit under his pillow and Louis glowers at it for a full minute before he pulls his phone off its charger and opens up his messages so he can text Zayn.

 _Fucking harry .._ is all that he says.

He expects for Zayn to reply and ask what he did but instead the absolute wanker texts back saying _yeah, u do kinda wanna fuck him, don’t u ;) x_

Louis stares at his phone blankly before he scowls. Almost as if Zayn can see, a grey blob pops up on the screen and then another text comes through _don’t pout lou, just bc I’m always right and ur wrong haaa :D x_

 _I’m getting new friends ! I don’t need this in my fucking life !_ is all Louis has to reply to that before he leaves his phone on his bedside table and picks up the plastic ball.

Somehow he ends up knocking on Harry’s door and when the younger man opens the door, opening his mouth say, “What—?” Louis cuts him off by shoving the ball in his mouth.

Harry blinks in surprise, ball still in his mouth and Louis smiles pleasantly. “Goodnight, twinkle toes,” he says before turning around and going back to his own room.

He dreams of Harry that night but no one can prove it, so it doesn’t matter.

Louis comes to accept his feelings for Harry not long after that. Everything he took care to push down comes rushing back up one night when he sees Harry sitting on the couch, reading a book.

All Harry does is look up and smile but it just sort of does it for Louis.

 _I like you_ , Louis thinks. _I really, really like you_.

Then almost automatically, his brain starts working again and Louis remembers that he’s not supposed to feel that way about Harry—he’s not _allowed_. Harry is his daughter’s nanny and they’re supposed to maintain a professional relationship just like every other nanny Louis has hired for Olivia.

Given that no other nanny ever cared about Olivia the way Harry does, he thinks that Harry might be a little different but all the same, Louis knows exactly how inappropriate the whole situation is.

Putting everything aside, they have a business relationship.

Louis likes Harry and that’s okay because he’s not going to act on it. He can’t and he won’t because he knows it’s just not meant to be.

Harry is over _five_ years younger than him. There’s no way that Louis would ever even stand a chance with someone like Harry, whose smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. Not to mention, if he ever made a move on Harry and Harry took it the wrong way he might leave them—leave _Olivia_ and Louis can’t have that. Olivia’s happiness heavily outweighs his own.

If that means Louis has to get over the feelings he’s developed for Harry, so be it. It doesn’t really matter because he knows Harry would’ve never returned those feelings anyways.

✿✿✿

There’s nothing funnier than watching Niall attempt to convince Zayn to swim in Harry’s opinion.

Zayn seems to be literally afraid the water is going to eat him alive despite Niall’s simple, easy going coaching.

The swimming lessons were meant to be for Olivia but somehow it turned into a group gathering at Niall’s house so now all five of them along with Olivia are sitting around in Niall’s backyard.

Liam is at the barbecue grill and Louis is lying on a beach chair, tanning. Harry’s having a hard time keeping his eyes off the older man but he manages to divert his eyes every time Louis looks over so it’s alright.

Harry’s wading through the water, helping Olivia since Niall’s clearly a lost cause now that he’s trying to help his boyfriend overcome his fear of water.

“Just kick really hard,” Harry instructs, pointedly moving Olivia’s legs up and down in the water.

Olivia giggles loudly before nodding and trying it out for herself. Harry nods encouragingly, keeping a hand ready beneath her in case she suddenly starts to flail. He has complete faith in her though and he has a feeling she’ll be swimming perfectly in no time.

She’s a brave girl, really strong just like her father. Harry doesn’t doubt that for a single second.

“I’m doing it!” Olivia shouts excitedly. “Look, I’m doing it!”

Harry nods, grinning down at her. “That’s my girl,” he cheers before reaching over and gathering the strands of dirty blond hair that’s falling into her eyes. He quickly ties it into a bun before tucking one last strand of hair behind her ear. “There we go.”

Olivia grins back at him before twisting her head so she can see Louis. “Papa, look, I’m swimming!” she exclaims. “Are you looking?”

“Yes, I’m looking darling,” Louis assures, sitting up and taking off his sunglasses. Harry swears his eyes are shining. “You’re doing wonderful! Harry’s teaching you well, yeah?”

Olivia nods vigorously before she stops kicking so she can turn to Harry and hug him tightly. “You’re the best swimming teacher ever!”

“Hey!” Niall shouts from across the pool, sounding cross. “I’m a good teacher!”

“You can’t even teach Uncle Zayn!” Olivia replies, giggling. “You suck!”

Normally Harry would scold her for that but he’s too busy laughing at the offended expression on his best friend’s face to do much other than pat Olivia on the back proudly.

“Have I told you I love you recently, Olive?” Harry wonders before continuing. “Because I do. Very much a lot.”

Olivia positively beams at him. “I love you very much a lot back!” she tells him before turning to Louis again. “And I love you very much a lot too, papa!”

“I love you very much a lot as well, Liv,” Louis replies, smiling now.

“Alright, all of you love each other very much a lot. We _get_ it,” Niall complains but when Harry looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, he’s smiling fondly. “Now can someone please just tell Zayn that the water’s not going to hurt him?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Zayn hisses and Harry covers Olivia’s ears automatically. She just looks up at him curiously before shrugging and going back to practicing kicking her legs in the water. “I just don’t want to drown. Sue me.”

“The odds of you drowning in this pool is extremely unlikely,” Liam informs without looking up from his steak. “There’s a better chance of me poisoning your food so please stop tempting me and just get in the pool, Zayn.”

Harry gives Liam an impressed look just as Louis sighs loudly and stands up. “Alright. Zayn, I’m going to give you two options. The first one is get in the fucking pool and the second is that I’m going to help Liam poison you. Please choose wisely.”

“You’re supposed to be my best friend!” Zayn protests, looking even more distressed now. Harry has to give him props—he didn’t know someone was capable of refusing Niall and Louis until now.

Louis shrugs, unaffected. “As your best friend, I’ll give you a three second warning.”

“What does that even mean—”

Zayn’s sentence gets cut off with a strangle noise as Louis pushes him into the pool and jumps in right after him, howling with laughter.

Harry snorts and even Liam is laughing from by the grill.

There’s a few seconds of Zayn flailing around but then he seems to realize that he’s in the shallow end which isn't even three feet deep and he stands up, completely soaking wet while Niall snickers beside him.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Zayn threatens Louis who’s still laughing as he swims in Harry’s direction. “All of you. I swear on my fucking grave.”

“If I go down, I’m taking you with me,” Louis replies cheerfully just as he reaches Harry. “Harry will be my accomplice, of course.”

Harry nods in agreement, dropping his hands by his side now. Olivia doesn’t even seem to notice. “I’ll bring the shovel!”

That’s when Niall breaks in with, “Am I the only normal one here without homicidal urges?”

“Absolutely not,” Louis retorts and Harry tries not to completely stop breathing as the older man leans against him. “You’re far from normal. Last month, you threatened do my head in with a microphone stand.”

Niall looks like he’s about to deny it for a second but then he falters and nods. “Fair point but in my defense, you threatened to strangle me with a cable cord right afterwards.”

Louis hums before he shrugs. “Touché.”

Unable to help himself, Harry giggles and Louis turns to him this time, a small smile on his face. “What?”

“You threatened him with a _cable cord_?” Harry snorts.

“Still better than a microphone stand though, right?” Louis checks and he turns towards Harry fully. If Harry’s not mistaken, Louis’ eyes rake over him once before settling on his face again.

Harry takes a moment to think about it although it’s mostly to get a hold of his own thoughts before he slowly nods in agreement. “Just barely,” he adds, waggling a finger at Louis who snaps his teeth at it playfully.

The next thing Louis does is splash him which is slightly unexpected. Harry turns just slightly to check on Olivia and finds that she’s out of the pool, standing beside Liam with a towel around her shoulders.

Louis uses that time to splash him again, laughing and Harry scowls before splashing him back.

“You two aren’t serious right now, are you?” he hears Niall shout incredulously and before Harry can answer, Louis is dunking his head into the water.

Harry grabs for Louis, intending to take him down with him and his hands land on Louis’ waist. He does manage to bring Louis down with him but then it’s just the two of them, underwater.

Louis is staring at him with eyes full of mirth and he’s so _close_ that when he opens his mouth and little bubbles of air come out, they hit Harry.

It would be so simple for Harry to just squeeze Louis’ hip and pull him closer but he doesn’t. Instead he lets go of Louis completely and waves before swimming to the surface.

Louis comes up a few seconds later but those seconds are enough time for Harry to remember how to use his brain again so it’s alright.

-

The rest of August passes by quickly for Harry.

It’s the only full month that Olivia has off from school during the year so they make the best of it, spending every second doing something exciting.

He has a feeling it wouldn’t be half as fun if Louis didn’t join them most of the time but by some miracle, Harry’s advice got to him that one day.

Harry takes Olivia out to do things like get ice cream or they’ll go play mini golf. They spend a lot of time inside too, doing things like playing the piano and painting and watching a fair bit of telly.

At some point, Harry starts orienting their meals around Louis’ schedule so he and Olivia have breakfast ready for Louis in the morning and have dinner ready for Louis in the evening.

A lot of the time is spent with Zayn, Niall and Liam. Zayn because he’s currently recording music in London, Liam because he’s got time off from work now too and Niall because he’s the one with the biggest pool (also because they love him very much).

Harry gets himself injured a few too many times but he supposes that’s the price of a little fun.

If nothing else, it makes Olivia laugh so hard that she starts crying.

An example being when she convinced him to play football with her in Niall’s yard and ended up kicking the ball so it hit Harry right in the groin.

“Oh my God, _frick_ ,” Harry shouts, keeling over as the pain hits him in waves.

His now ex-best friend Niall bursts into loud laughter, clapping his hands together like a seal and Zayn is no better since he simply has the decency to cover his mouth as he laughs.

Olivia is staring at him in surprise and Liam is digging through the ice box, probably looking for something Harry can hold against his dick for preferably the next twelve hours.

Harry doesn’t know where Louis is, too disoriented to look around but when someone puts their hands on his shoulders, Harry automatically knows it’s him.

“Jesus, are you alright?” Louis asks, eyes wide in concern and Harry tries to offer him a smile but instead he groans, dropping to his knees.

“I’m going to die,” Harry moans, hiding his face against Louis’ jeans. “I’m never going to have kids.”

“I think one implies the other,” Louis teases from above him but then his hands start to run through Harry’s hair almost soothingly and Harry would probably lean into the touch if he could.

That’s when Olivia starts laughing too and Harry tries to pout but he’s too busy trying not to cry or something equally as embarrassing.

“I hate you all,” Harry declares before hugging Louis’ leg tightly. “Tell my mum I loved her.”

Louis snorts and tugs his leg out of Harry’s grasp before crouching down next to him. “Sorry twinkle toes, you’re not allowed to die on me right now. You can tell her yourself.”

“Will you at least carry me to my death bed?” Harry tries weakly.

He’s surprised when Louis shrugs and then suddenly Harry’s being lifted up from the ground bridal style. “What the fuck?” Harry hisses mostly to himself as he quickly wraps his arms around Louis’ neck to keep from falling. He decides to address Louis more directly then, “I wasn’t being serious!”

Louis just smiles, tightening his arms around Harry as he carries him over to the one of poolside chairs. “Try not to die, please.”

“I think I’m already dead,” Harry mutters back dazedly, clinging tightly.

“I sure hope not,” Louis teases and in the background, Harry can hear Niall wolf-whistling like the tosser he is.

Harry swears he hears Olivia say, “This is the best day of my life,” but it’s also possible he’s dying through his dick so he’s not going to jump to assumptions.

Louis sets him down then. “There twinkle toes,” he says. “No more balls to your balls, I promise.”

There’s not much Harry can say to that other than make a noise that he himself doesn’t even think is coherent.

“Me too,” Louis replies before the older man presses a kiss to Harry’s temple and walks away. Harry watches after him with wide eyes, unsure what’s more important; the fact he felt Louis’ lips against his skin or that he took a football to the dick.

He decides on Louis’ lips. The pain that follows the next hour or so seems to go against that.

-

Somehow that becomes a regular thing. Not the pain but the kisses.

From then on out, every time Louis presses a kiss to Olivia’s head or cheek, he presses one to Harry’s as well. That’s why Harry doesn’t think twice before returning the favor. Any time Louis and Olivia leave the house to do anything, he presses kisses to both their cheeks and tries his best not flush as he waves them off.

It’s all because after kissing Olivia’s cheek, she faltered in the doorway and gave Harry a speculative look that he knew would get him in trouble.

“How come you don’t give papa kisses too?” Olivia asks, blinking at Harry curiously.

Harry opens his mouth to answer but then realizes he has nothing to say. When he looks over at Louis, he’s just watching Olivia with raised eyebrows and after half a second, Harry presses a chaste kiss to Louis’ cheek as well.

Louis turns to look at him in surprise but he doesn’t say anything but slowly his lips spread into a smile and Harry smiles back shyly.

From that point on, every time Harry kisses Olivia _anywhere_ she gives him a pointed look until he kisses Louis too. He wants to say it works out in his favor but all it does is cause his stomach to twist and turn with a million butterflies.

He figures it fits since he does have a butterfly tattoo on his stomach after all.

-

At the end of August, Louis tells Harry that he’s going to work at home for all of September.

Harry doesn’t know if he’s ever hugged someone tighter.

✿✿✿

The thing that makes Louis happiest is seeing Olivia happy but somehow, Harry makes his way high on that chart too. Any time Harry smiles, Louis feels his own lips turn up accordingly.

It’s possible that Harry’s doing some voodoo type shit to him or maybe it’s just that Harry has the most breathtaking smile Louis has ever seen.

Louis falls in love with that smile.

He gets to see it every day now, at least once every hour.

Deciding to work from home for the month is one of the best—if not _the best_ decision he’s made in a long time.

Every morning he wakes up knowing the first thing he’s going to see is Harry’s smile and every morning he’s right.

One morning, a day before Olivia’s meant to start school again, Louis wakes up and hears the two of them talking in the living room.

Before he follows the sound of their voices, he goes into the kitchen and picks up his mug which is filled to the brim with coffee just the way he likes. Louis refuses to admit that the first sip makes him smile widely.

Then he heads into the living room and promptly drops the mug of coffee.

Right before the pain of the hot coffee being poured all over himself registers, Louis finds himself gaping at Harry and Olivia, both of whom are doing yoga in his living room.

He’s mostly gaping at Harry because the younger man is bent over with his pert little arse hanging in the air and he’s wearing yoga pants which somehow look to be tighter than Harry’s usual jeans.

Then suddenly the pain registers.

“Oh my fucking—shit, shit, _shit_. What the fucking _hell_ — _fuck_!” Louis shouts as he jumps up and down, wringing his arms out.

In front of him, Harry jumps to his feet almost immediately, eyes wide in alarm. “Christ, are you—Louis, did you just drop coffee on yourself?”

Louis glares at him, unamused.

“Papa said a lot of bad words,” Olivia informs when she turns around, leaning against Harry. “Is he going to get a time-out?”

It’s official. Louis’ own daughter has turned to the dark side.

Harry snorts. “I don’t even give you time-out. Why would I give your papa a time-out?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Olivia exclaims before she bursts into giggles. “I bet papa dropped coffee on himself because he saw your _butt_.”

Louis’ cheeks flush dark red and he opens his mouth to deny that but Harry beats him to it. “Or _maybe_ papa saw the mess you made this morning and that’s why he dropped coffee on himself.”

Olivia gasps, holding a hand to her chest rather dramatically. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Olive,” Harry replies, raising a pointed eyebrow. “Do you want me to tell your papa more about the mess or are you going to go get me some wet wipes to clean the coffee off the floor?”

Olivia’s answer is her huffing loudly before she stomps into the kitchen.

Louis is too busy staring at the ground in disbelief at the fact that he actually dropped his coffee on the floor that he doesn’t realize that Harry’s standing right in front of him until the curly haired man grabs his wrist lightly.

“Don’t think the coffee burned you,” Harry murmurs and Louis scowls, trying to tug his arm back but Harry’s hold just tightens as he grins. “You should go take a shower while Olivia and I clean your mess.”

“Do you do yoga every day?” Louis asks before he can think better of it. “How come I’ve never seen you do it?”

Harry smiles at Louis like he thinks the question is odd which admittedly, Louis can understand. “You’re usually asleep.”

“Right,” Louis replies blankly before he gestures towards the hallway. “I’m just going to—shower. Yeah. You just keep doing you. I’m—okay, bye.”

“Have fun!” Harry calls after him and Louis just sighs, wondering how his life got to this point.

-

Louis is the one to take Olivia to school the next day and at the door, Harry presses a kiss to Olivia’s cheek and then his cheek while Louis tries not to smile too widely.

It’s only when he’s in the elevator with Olivia that he notices the smug smile on her face. “What?” he wonders, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing,” Olivia answers, still grinning.

“It’s clearly _something_ ,” Louis replies, pulling her hood over her head. She makes a face but doesn’t say anything. He knows he hates wearing hoods. Maybe he’ll have to start buying her hats. She seems to like wearing Harry’s hats well enough. “Spill Liv.”

“I’m just excited about the first day of school!” Olivia explains but she’s lying and it’s obvious as the two of them walk side by side on the sidewalk.

It’s easy to tell when she’s lying because her voice grows squeakier but her eyes are the biggest tell-tale sign. Her grey eyes are often very wide, feigning innocence and Louis figures Olivia probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it.

Grabbing her hand, Louis shakes his head. “You’re not fooling me Liv. What is it? You can tell me.”

Olivia juts her chin out stubbornly as she insists, “It’s nothing,” again.

“Olivia, just tell me what it is,” Louis basically pleads. Her school really is too close and they’re already halfway there. He knows if they get there before he gets her to tell him, he won’t find out at all.

As expected, Olivia groans and repeats one more time, “It’s nothing papa! Don’t worry about it.”

“If you tell me, I’ll get you that anchor charm you want for your bracelet,” Louis offers, not above making a deal with her. He truly was going to buy her the charm anyways but he figures giving her an incentive is a good way to get her to tell him.

He’s proven correct when Olivia’s expression turns thoughtful and eventually she sighs heavily, turning to him. “I just think your crush on Harry is cute. That’s all.”

“My _what_?” Louis replies, aghast. He didn’t think he was _that_ obvious that his eight year old daughter could pick up on it but clearly he would be mistaken.

Olivia sighs once again. “Your crush on Harry,” she reiterates before facing forward. “You like him, papa!”

Louis splutters, unsure what to reply but they arrive at Olivia’s school just then so he’s saved from having to say anything.

“You owe me an anchor charm,” Olivia informs, letting go of his hand to hug him tightly and Louis hugs her back reflexively. “See you later papa! I love you very much a lot!”

“I love you very much a lot, too,” Louis says but it comes out strangled and Olivia giggles before she skips away merrily towards her friends.

He’s still staring blankly after his daughter, even when she heads inside the school building. Her words play on a loop in his mind—if _she_ knows, does Harry know as well?

Just then it occurs to him that he might’ve chosen the worst month to work from home since now Olivia’s going to be away at school, Louis is literally going to be spending his entire day with _Harry_.

The only thing that keeps him from having a massive breakdown right there and then is that he remembers Harry has university to attend.

True enough when Louis comes back to the flat, Harry is gone but he finds a sticky note on his own door. Usually he sees them around the flat for Olivia but this is the first time he’s ever seen one for him.

_Have fun working sweetcheeks...see you at home later .x_

He knows it’s for him because recently Harry has taken to calling him sweetcheeks to get back at him for twinkle toes but truly, Louis doesn’t mind at all.

Louis takes the sticky note off the door and folds it before putting it in his pocket. He doesn’t plan on losing it anytime soon.

Working from home is strange—there’s no constantly calling out to Delilah to ask her about something or Liam calling his work phone every ten minutes or even Niall showing up and lounging in his office.

It’s silent other than the buzzing hum of his laptop and it’s all just really… unfamiliar. Not bad though.

Louis knows he probably won’t be able to do this for another few months since Autumn is the season that marketing is best for musicians. He knows that approximately four of the artists signed to his label are releasing albums in the next three months—including Zayn who’s probably in the recording studio or sleeping.

Another thing is that he still has to break it to Harry that he kind of, maybe wants to sign him to One Direction Records.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to tell Harry but he figures it’s probably best to do it sooner rather than later since Harry could probably go straight into the studio with the song he’s already written.

Louis is more than a little nervous to ask Harry. If Harry wanted to be in the music industry, he wouldn’t limit his singing to the bathroom.

If nothing else, Harry could’ve at least started dropping hints and considering that all Louis does is pay attention to Harry, he’s pretty sure that Harry hasn’t.

Louis is still doing his work when someone knocks on his door, startling him. His glasses slip down his nose and he pushes them back up just as Harry comes, carrying a tray.

On the tray is a few cookies and tea and Harry sets it down on Louis’ bedside table before sitting down on the bed. “Working hard?”

Louis snorts, swiveling around in his chair so he can face Harry. “Depends on your definition of hard.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye makes it pretty obvious what his definition of hard is and Louis just smiles, rolling his eyes. “Brought you some food if that’s alright,” Harry says instead, leaning back on his hands. “If I’m disrupting your work environment I can take it back. I just figured you’d be hungry since I’ve been gone for a few hours and the kitchen isn’t on fire.”

“What’s the supposed to mean?” Louis complains, kicking Harry lightly with one of his feet. “I can cook!”

Harry bursts into laughter, head thrown back and Louis’ mouth dries. He’s heart achingly beautiful and Louis is so completely infatuated. “If I remember correctly, your definition of cooking is _cereal_.”

“There’s nothing wrong with cereal!” Louis defends and ignores the way his stomach flips when Harry hooks an ankle around his, pulling him closer. “I’m sure there’s loads of vitamins!”

“Yeah, _synthetic_ ones,” Harry retorts, a smile spreading on his face. His dimples pop out and Louis ignores the urge to sink his finger into one of them. “All I’ve ever seen you make is sandwiches. Not even the difficult sandwiches—peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

Louis makes a face although it’s mostly played up. He just likes the way it startles a giggle out of Harry. “I’ll have you know, making peanut and jelly sandwiches is an _art_ , Harold.”

Everything about Harry is so sweet, from the dimples on face to the giggles leaving his mouth. All it does is make Louis feel more ridiculously fond.

“You’re ridiculous,” Harry states, still smiling. “I don’t know what you’re going to do without me to cook for you.”

Louis ignores the pang in his chest as he smiles back. “Well, let’s hope it never comes to that.”

They’re quiet for a few seconds, just staring at each but eventually Harry nods and stands up, gesturing towards the tray. “I’ll leave you to your work then.”

Even though Louis nods in agreement, in his mind he’s pleading for Harry to stay.

-

The rest of the day is normal since Harry goes to pick up Olivia from school and comes back with her in his arms, giggling and yelling for Harry to put her down.

Olivia comes in to tell him about her day, sitting in his bed and talking about how ‘Abbey says she loves bumblebees now! I like ladybugs though!’ and ‘Sharon borrowed some of Abbey’s crayons so I let Mary borrow some of mine. Sharing is caring, right papa?’ among other things.

It’s nice—he’s not used to having Olivia just sit down and talk to him while he does his work but he finds it’s not half as distracting as he thought it would be.

Soon Olivia leaves to take a bath though and Louis finds himself wondering if this is how every day is going to be from now on. Just him, Olivia and Harry.

He thinks he likes the sound of that.

-

Harry puts Olivia to bed sometime around nine and Louis knows because half past nine, he hears the faint trickling of the piano playing.

Louis shuts his laptop off before wandering towards the piano room and when he gets there, he stands in the doorway watching Harry play.

The younger man doesn’t notice him—he keeps playing and Louis is only slightly surprised when he starts singing.

“I figured it out, saw the mistakes of up and down. Meet in the middle, there’s always room for common ground,” Harry sings quietly, holding the note in the last word.

Louis realizes that it’s basically now or never for offering Harry a record deal so he steps into the room, walking towards him.

When he sits down on the piano stool, Harry flinches in shock but his fingers halt on the keyboard. After a quick look over the sheet music, Louis’ own hands move to play the keys.

“I see what it’s like—I see what it’s like for day and night. Never together,” Louis tests out before looking over at Harry who’s watching him with wide eyes. “’Cause they see things in a different light.”

Harry’s voice joins him then, “Like us.”

“And they never tried,” Louis continues and Harry sings with him again, “Like us.”

Louis stops playing completely so he can turn to look at Harry curiously. “You’re good,” he says and it’s not meant to be a compliment. It’s just a fact that he’s stating.

By the looks of it, Harry doesn’t know that because he ducks his head, blushing a pretty pink color. “I’m really not,” Harry mutters.

Louis resists the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes and settles for lightly squeezing Harry’s knee. “Yeah, you really are. You’re amazing actually and so are your songs.”

Harry starts, blinking down at Louis in what seems to be surprise. “My songs?”

“Your songs,” Louis confirms before giving Harry a quizzical look. “You do know I own a record label, right? You haven’t forgotten?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” Harry replies but he sounds unsure. “That doesn’t really affect me though.”

“But it could,” Louis says and suddenly it’s really quiet. “You could be a star. I can make you a star. I _want_ to make you a star.”

The only sounds are their breathing and Harry’s staring at him like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

“I don’t—I don’t think I understand,” Harry says eventually.

Louis feels his lips spread into a smile without his permission. “I want to put you on a stage in front of thousands. I want to put your album in every store. I want millions of people singing along to you on the radio. Is that okay?”

Harry’s mouth falls open and when he squeaks, “Me?” Louis bursts into laughter.

“Yes twinkle toes. You. Harry Styles,” Louis clarifies, taking the time to pronounce each individual syllable.

It’s clear that it’s going to take a lot to convince Harry because he starts shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re taking the piss,” he accuses. “I’m not star material.” His hands are shaking at his sides. Louis takes his hands in his own, squeezing comfortingly before shaking his head slowly.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re the brightest star in the universe, Harry,” Louis murmurs before smiling softly. “And every single person is going to know it.”

Harry lets out a nervous laugh, saying, “You sound so sure,” almost anxiously.

Louis hums quietly before nodding. “I am,” he replies simply before fixing Harry with a curious look. “You once told me you believed in fate. Do you still believe?”

When Harry nods slowly, Louis has to bite his lip to keep from smiling. “Maybe fate wants this for you then.”

They’re silent for a moment before Harry looks up at Louis through his eyelashes. “I can’t really deny fate, can I?”

“No,” Louis replies, letting his smile spread across his face now. “You can’t.”

-

Suddenly, it’s late night writing sessions and Louis and Harry sitting in the piano room for hours upon hours, figuring out which melody sounds right with which songs and which lyric is misplaced in which stanza.

Mainly it’s the two of them enjoying each other’s company.

It’s Louis tossing grapes into Harry’s mouth while he figures out the ending to this one song he can’t get right and it’s Harry giggling as Louis ends on a sour note.

Sometimes Niall pops by, bring equipment with him that end up storing in the closet because Harry signs Olivia up for a new season of ballet that runs from September until _next_ June.

It seems like a long way but then Louis remembers that he hired Harry in February and he wonders where the months went.

Zayn and Liam stop by too—Zayn to offer advice to Harry and Liam to keep an eye on Louis. Louis is seriously considering just getting a new group of friends.

Harry’s songs—well, they all have a specific theme to them, Louis notes. It’s about wanting a love and not being able to have it. Louis doesn’t know why his songs are like that—doesn’t know who Harry’s muse is but he doesn’t ask because as much as he claims his feelings for Harry aren’t a big deal, Louis knows he has a jealous streak a mile long.

It’s better that he doesn’t know.

It’s hard to suppress the urge to ask but he manages fairly well, distracting himself with anything else that he can while they’re writing.

“Alright, so maybe you can change this line to ‘hope your heart is strong enough’? That way it’ll be more rhythmic since ‘enough’ and ‘love’ would sound well in right after one another?” Louis suggests, pointing to the lyric on the sheet with his pen.

Harry leans over, hooking his chin on Louis’ shoulder and Louis tries not to shiver as Harry hums quietly.

“I like it,” Harry decides eventually, grinning and then he presses a quick kiss to Louis’ cheek before returning to the sheet music in front of him.

Louis stares at him for a moment, watching the way his lips purse and his eyebrows furrow as he makes little changes to the composition.

He finds that he spends a lot of time looking at Harry—admiring him. It’s hard not to because Harry is truly the most beautiful person that Louis has ever come across in his entire life. All Louis wants to do for the rest of his life is watch him smile and laugh in a way that’s totally non-creepy.

There’s a voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. Insisting that he’s going to end up regretting all of this. Louis doesn’t really listen to that voice.

“I can’t get this one part right,” Harry says and Louis blinks, looking away immediately before he’s caught staring.

“Let me see,” Louis replies, scooting closer to Harry so their shoulders are pressed against each other. He pushes his glasses further up his nose and inspects the line that Harry is focusing on.

At some point Louis must start clicking his pen because Harry’s hand closes around his suddenly, stopping the movement. “Sorry,” Harry apologizes, blushing. “It was just a bit annoying.”

Louis shrugs his shoulder and offers Harry a small smile before looking at the sheet music again. “Alright—what if you tried like… moving _this_ ,” Louis points at a section, “over here and switching this part,” he points at a different section, “to the end here. What do you think?”

Harry nods eagerly, moving his own pen to mark the page up so it shows Louis’ edits. “That’s great,” he gushes before he points his pen to beginning verse. “I think maybe this could be repeated at the end too—like just the first two lines?”

Louis doesn’t answer right away, thinking about Harry’s edit and he has to hum the music so that he can figure out whether or not it’ll work right.

When he’s satisfied that it’ll perfectly, he turns to grin at Harry but he suddenly realizes how close their faces are too each other.

He inhales sharply in surprise and Harry turns to him curiously before his eyes widen as he realizes their proximity as well.

Louis finds himself staring at Harry’s lips unconsciously. They’re a cherry red color today because Harry keeps biting down on them as he’s concentrating. Right now Harry’s licking his lips and Louis reluctantly brings himself to meet his eyes instead.

If Louis’ not mistaken though, Harry’s eyes drop to his own lips before looking back up at him with wide, glossy eyes.

They’re both silent, just staring at each other and Louis wonders what he should do—all he can think is _HarryHarryHarry_ on a loop and for a second he’s thinking about leaning in.

However when Harry _does_ lean in, Louis jerks back almost immediately as if he’s been burned. Harry doesn’t say anything, just blinking at Louis.

“Right,” Louis breaks the silence. “Okay, this is really good, Harry. Great work.” He claps a hand against Harry’s back before turning his entire body away.

“Thanks,” Harry murmurs but Louis doesn’t look back, just nodding and going back to looking over Harry’s lyrics.

When he fall asleep that night, he swears he feels the ghost of Harry’s lips against his.

-

Sometimes they’ll go to the studio and Harry will insist that Olivia tag along so Louis and Olivia end up sitting outside the sound booth while Harry sings his heart out.

Olivia smirks as if she knows something he doesn’t and Louis doesn’t question it for the sake of his own sanity.

-

He thinks maybe he should question things she does a little more often, though, because somehow, they always get him in trouble.

It starts the day Olivia asks him to get her unicorn plush toy out of the closet. Louis is confused because he’s pretty sure she doesn’t _have_ a unicorn plush toy but Olivia insists she does and shows him which closet to check.

Louis is on his tiptoes, checking the top shelves when suddenly the closet door opens and Harry comes inside, looking perplexed.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks in confusion and Louis falls onto the flat of his feet before turning to him.

“Olivia asked me to get some unicorn thing,” Louis explains but Harry furrows his eyebrows in further confusion.

He understands why a second later when Harry says, “But she just asked _me_ to get that toy?”

Before Louis can reply, the closet door slams shut and the locks clicks. From the other side Olivia shouts, “There really is a mouse in there by the way!”

What Louis really doesn’t expect is for Harry is to yelp hoarsely in response before running into Louis’ arms. That’s why he promptly falls over in surprise and Harry lands on top of him, shrieking even louder.

“Oh my God, can you _stop_ screaming?” Louis shouts back at him before lightly pushing him off and insisting, “Harry, _relax_.”

“I can’t relax!” Harry protests and Louis can just barely see his horrified face from the light seeping out from underneath the door. “I think there’s something on my leg. I swear something’s tickling me!”

“That’s my _arm_ ,” Louis informs dryly.

Harry’s silent for a moment before, “Oh,” and then that’s followed by, “You have a nice arm.”

“Are we really doing this right now?” Louis wonders out loud before addressing Harry more directly. “Apparently there’s a mouse with us so keep it PG, Harold. Also my eight year old daughter is outside the door.”

Harry groans and Louis hears a loud thud as the younger man’s head bangs against the wall. “Fuck, I forgot about the mouse,” he complains in distress. “Why did you remind me? Was it really necessary to bring that up?”

Louis sighs, muttering, “Shit,” under his breath and Harry squirms next to him. Louis glares at what he thinks is Harry, asking, “What now?” exasperatedly.

“I think there’s something moving,” Harry whispers as if the mouse will hear him.

“That’s my _foot_ ,” Louis replies before rolling over and attempting to get to his feet. He somehow manages it without falling over which he’s immensely grateful for. He reaches up to turn on the small light bulb in the closet and when he finds the string that’ll turn it on, he tugs hard until a light flickers. “Is that better?”

Harry stands up slowly, still looking slightly afraid but he nods. “Yes,” he mumbles quietly.

Louis makes an aborted move to comfort the younger man when his phone rings. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion but pulls his phone out anyways in case it’s important.

It’s only Niall but Louis answers anyways, barking out a, “What do you want?”

“Are you really locked in a closet with Harry?” Niall asks cheerfully. Before Louis can reply, Niall continues, “Because Olivia just called me and apparently you are.”

Louis shoves the phone in Harry’s hand before pounding his fist on the door. “Olivia Elise Tomlinson, what the hell are you doing out there?” he shouts.

“Oh, nothing!” Olivia shouts back, sounding every bit as cheerful as Niall. “What are _you_ doing in there?”

From the phone, Niall brightly says, “Not each other, I hope! That closet is awfully small.”

Even in the dim light, Louis can see Harry’s cheeks burning red and he has a feeling that his are too. “Oh my God,” Louis mutters to himself, hitting his forehead against the door. “This isn’t happening.”

Louis isn’t ashamed to say he spends the next five minutes simultaneously shouting at Niall and begging Olivia to open the door.

Eventually he grows tired of both and reaches over, pressing the end button on his phone while Harry watches on with wide eyes.

“I suddenly know why every nanny hated my daughter,” he informs Harry pitifully.

That’s when Olivia opens the door, huffing. “You’re both like rabbits,” she informs as if that’s supposed to make _any_ sense whatsoever. “Pointless, do nothing. Just like Uncle Niall said.”

“Olivia—” Louis starts to protest but stops immediately when she gives him an unimpressed look.

“There was never any mouse,” Olivia tells Harry before she sighs loudly. “You’re both silly. I’m going to take a nap.”

As she’s walking away from the closet, Louis swears he hears her muttering, “Silly rabbits.”

“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Louis declares before stepping out of the closet. “Do you?”

“Niall hates us,” Harry replies mournfully, hanging his head as he walks out of the closet. “He thinks we’re pointless and do nothing.”

“I think you need a drink,” Louis decides mostly because he needs one himself. His daughter _seriously_ just locked him in a closet. “Then we can both call Niall and yell at him for telling Olivia these lies about us.”

Harry looks like he’s going to disagree for a moment but then he nods. “Lead the way.”

Louis slings an arm around Harry’s shoulder and does exactly that, helping him to the kitchen. He takes two beers out of the fridge and takes a seat across from Harry at the table.

“Let’s drink to my insane daughter,” he says as cheerfully as he can.

Harry nods, bumping bottles with him, agreeing, “To your insane daughter.”

-

Harry’s first show is in a small pub.

Well, it’s not necessarily small, but it’s definitely not as big as a venue at any rate. There’s a good amount of people and Louis didn’t tell Harry but a lot of the men setting in the booths are from his record label, here to check Harry out.

He figures that wouldn’t do well for Harry’s nerves.

Louis didn’t really expect Harry to be the type to get nervous before a show but Harry’s surprised him before.

When Louis finally finds him, he’s in the bathroom. He’s sitting on the floor with his back to the wall and his head rests between his knees.

“Alright there, twinkle toes?” Louis wonders, walking over to Harry and crouching in front of him. When Harry doesn’t reply, Louis frowns and reaches up to fix Harry’s headscarf. “Harry?” he says a little more urgently.

“I’m think I’m sick,” Harry announces without raising his head.

After a moment, Louis sits down on the floor next to him even though he knows his suit is going to get dirty. It doesn’t really matter though because Harry seems really distressed.

Louis settles a hand on Harry’s back, rubbing up and down slowly. It’s the same thing he does for Olivia when she’s scared or nervous and it always seems to make her feel better.

It must have the same effect on Harry because the younger man lets out a shaky breath before lifting his head to look at Louis. “I’m going to be _awful_ ,” Harry mumbles, pouting.

“No, you’re not,” Louis assures just as quietly. “You’re going to be a star, yeah? My twinkle twinkle little star?”

Harry nods slowly but he stills looks nervous so Louis frowns, taking one of Harry’s hands in his and squeezing tightly. “Don’t be nervous, babe. I promise it’ll be great. Your number one fan is here after all,” he teases lightly.

“Olivia’s not here?” Harry replies in confusion and Louis rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

He’s right though since Olivia is at him with Liam taking care of her. Last he heard, they were making posters for Harry, saying things like _we’re proud of you twinkle toes!_

“Fine, your _second_ biggest fan is here,” Louis amends, lacing his fingers with Harry’s before he can think too hard about it.

He knows Harry is teasing when he says, “Well yeah, Niall told me he was coming—“

“Oh shut up,” Louis snaps but he smiles now because if Harry can banter with him then he’s feeling better. “Will you sign something for me? Take a picture with me? The whole ordeal? I want to prove I was your _first_ fan if not the biggest.”

Harry raises an eyebrow and Louis stares back steadily. It takes a moment but Harry bursts into quiet giggles and says, “Christ, you’re being _serious_.”

The two of them spend five more minutes in the bathroom, Harry giggling as Louis makes him sign a sticky note that he folds and puts in his pocket. He also takes out his phone and forces Harry to take a selfie which Harry insists that Louis sends to him so he can put it on Instagram.

When Louis finally leaves, he presses a soft kiss to the back of Harry’s hand, murmuring, “Good luck.”

Louis ends up at the bar where Niall is sitting, looking a little bit too smug for Louis’ liking.

“Shut it, Horan,” Louis says before Niall can even his mouth. He motions for the bartender to bring him over another drink since his first one is empty, no thanks to the Irishman next to him.

“I didn’t say anything,” Niall replies, holding his hands up defensively. “I was just wondering why you took so long in the bathroom.”

Louis glares at him and doesn’t answer, merely sitting down on the stool next to him and sipping his drink.

Some of the people that are here on behalf of One Direction Records smile when they catch his eye and Louis offers them a thumbs up.

He’s kind of nervous too—although he would never tell Harry. He’s not nervous that Harry’s going to be _bad_ or anything. He’s mostly nervous that Harry is going to go up there and be the star Louis knows he is and Louis is going to die.

It’s a real possibility.

When the host of the pub gets on the little stage in the front of the bar, Louis slaps Niall’s arm excitedly with his free hand. He ignores the noise of pain Niall lets out in favor of listening to the host.

“Right, well today we have a Harry Styles here to perform for us. Can I get a little love for him?” the host asks and the small crowd cheers, little _whoop_ s and _woo_ s.

Harry stumbles onto the stage then, looking a little embarrassed and a few giggles erupt in the crowd. Louis finds himself smiling fondly at the stage.

He watches as Harry taps on the microphone lightly a few times before clearing his throat. “Erm, hi,” he starts awkwardly and Louis chuckles quietly. “I’m Harry Styles… I’m going to be singing a few songs for you guys if that’s alright?”

“More than alright!” someone shouts from the crowd cheekily and Harry’s cheeks turn a light pink color.

“I’m glad,” Harry mumbles before smiling uncertainly. “Right, okay well this song is called Something Great and I hope you all think it’s something great.”

“That was horrible,” Louis whispers to Niall but he’s doing a bad job of keeping his smile contained so he doesn’t really have room to speak. Niall seems to know if his snort is any indication.

When Harry starts to sing, the entire crowd falls silent. It’s obvious that Harry was born to be on a stage and Louis always knew Harry was a star but seeing on him stage—it’s just something else entirely.

As Harry continues to go through the songs that they decided on, Louis decides to cast a look over to the representatives from his record label. They all look _very_ impressed and Louis smirks, pleased.

Suddenly an idea hits him and Louis takes his phone out to record one of the songs that Harry sings. He ends up sending it out to both Liam and Zayn. He sends it to Gemma as well but he’s not going to tell Harry that later.

At the end of the set, Louis makes a move to get up but Niall a throws an arm out, stopping him.

“What?” Louis wonders and Niall shushes him before pointing to the stage where Harry is still standing, looking a lot more himself now. He’s beaming and Louis has no trouble beaming back.

Louis is confused though when Harry starts to speak into the microphone again.

“So I have one last song for you all,” Harry declares and Louis furrows his eyebrows, unsure what Harry is talking about. They didn’t discuss any other songs.

“What’s he talking about?” Louis asks Niall and the blond man shrugs but he’s smiling like he knows something that Louis doesn’t. Louis doesn’t get another chance to ask because Harry speaks up again.

“It’s a song called Strong,” Harry says and then he turns around a little, searching until his eyes meet Louis’. He’s grinning so wide that his dimples are showing and Louis is so confused but he figures anything that makes Harry look like that is good. “I want to dedicate it to someone who means very much a lot to me. You know who you are.”

 _Someone who means very much a lot to me_.

Louis fumbles with his drink in surprise and the entire content spills into Niall’s lap before the glass falls to the floor, thankfully not shattering.

“What the fuck, mate? Can you chill?” Niall complains, wiping uselessly at his jeans but Louis is entirely too busy gaping at Harry to reply.

By the time Harry gets to the chorus, singing, “I’m sorry if I say I need you but I don’t care, I’m not scared of love. ‘Cause when I’m not with you, I’m weaker. Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong that you make me strong?” he’s staring _directly_ at Louis.

Louis is amazed he doesn’t explode on the spot.

When the song ends, the entire crowd bursts into cheers and Harry’s smiling as he gets off the stage. He heads straight over to the bar and Louis finds that he’s having a hard time breathing.

“What did you think?” Harry asks when he reaches them, bouncing lightly with the adrenaline Louis knows comes after performing a gig. “Was I alright?”

Louis nods, despite the fact that his brain isn’t functioning properly. “Amazing,” he breathes out. “You were so good.”

Harry’s cheeks flush as he murmurs, “Thank you,” and looks at Louis though his eyelashes.

Before Louis can continue praising him and maybe ask about the song, someone taps him on the shoulder. When he turns around, he sees a bunch of the representatives standing there expectantly.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when he realizes he has to go because they’re supposed to have a meeting _right_ now.

Harry is staring at him in concern and he reaches out to place a hand Louis’ arm. “Are you alright?” he checks.

Louis nods, biting his bottom lip before giving Harry an apologetic look. “You were so wonderful but I think you’re always wonderful,” he tells him earnestly before frowning. “I’m really sorry but I have to go. You were so fantastic.”

He leans forward to press a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek before turning back to the representatives and following after them to the large limo he knows is waiting outside. He does cast one look behind him and sees Harry staring after him.

Louis waves once right before he leaves the pub and the last thing he sees is Harry waving back.

✿✿✿

By the end of September, Harry knows he’s in love with Louis. He knows it like he knows the sun will rise every morning and set every evening.

It’s irrefutable and something Harry couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to.

✿✿✿

October brings a whole new round of stress for Louis. His schedule goes back to the way it was before he took the month off which makes a little easier to deal with it.

Sometimes he has to spend late nights in the office but when he comes home, Harry is curled up on the couch with two mugs of hot chocolate and Louis sinks into him easily.

Zayn’s album is dropping on Halloween and that means a _lot_ of work for Louis. If Zayn’s album drops at a certain time, no other artist signed to his label can release an album for a minimum of three weeks because otherwise he knows Zayn will blow them out of the water.

It happens every single year and Louis stresses every single time but this year he has a happy household to come home to.

Harry’s clearly in the festive mood because he and Olivia are always baking pumpkin flavored muffins or decorating cookies with orange icing. It’s an endearing trait.

“Is Halloween your favorite holiday?” Louis asks one evening as the both of them help Olivia will a project. Harry cuts out the shapes from the paper because he’s the best with scissors, Louis puts glue on the back and Olivia sticks it onto her poster.

Harry shakes his head, a concentrated expression on his face as he cuts out a picture of a vampire. “Second to Christmas,” he informs, passing the piece of paper to Louis once he’s done. Their fingers brush and a chill goes down Louis’ spine.

“Why?” Louis wonders, hanging the paper to Olivia who’s watching him with raised eyebrows. His daughter knows far too much.

It takes a while for Harry to answer because he’s particularly focused on cutting out a ghost but once he finishes, he shrugs. “Halloween is when you can be anything you want. You don’t need to hide behind the mask you wear all year long.”

Louis blinks at him, slightly stunned by he accepts the ghost from Harry and puts glue on the back. “That was deep,” he mutters before narrowing his eyes. “Have you been spending a lot of time with Zayn?”

Harry laughs and then his eyes widen as he cuts the wrong part. He quickly gets back on track, just barely hiding a giggle. “No, I haven’t.”

“You have me fooled,” Louis replies, teasing and he hands off another piece of paper to Olivia. “Why Christmas though?”

“It’s the most wonderful time of year,” Harry retorts, clearly deflecting but Louis accepts it as something he probably doesn’t want to talk about. “Also your birthday’s around then, isn’t it?”

Olivia finally speaks up, nodding eagerly. “Papa’s birthday is Christmas eve! Grandma says it’s because papa was an early Christmas present.”

Louis groan and hides his face in his hands while Harry giggles again, patting Louis’ knee lightly. “Well grandma is a hundred percent right,” Harry declares loudly. “Your papa is the best gift this world could ever get.”

“I know,” Olivia says cheerfully before turning back to her project. Louis worries his face might break from how big he’s smiling behind his hands.

Knowing perfectly well how cheesy it is, Louis mumbles, “Well you’re the star on top of the tree, twinkle toes.”

Harry’s answering grin is enough to light up the entire universe.

-

In the morning, Harry’s usually the one to walk Olivia to school since he catches a bus and goes straight to uni afterwards but starting one morning, Louis decides he wants to tag along too.

It’s mostly because he just pulled an all-nighter and he needs to clear his head before he explodes.

Going and coming it’s only a ten minute walk but Louis figures it’ll do him good which is why he comes out of his room at seven, a beanie pulled over his messy hair. He’s wearing a ripped shirt and a pair of sweat pants.

That’s why when he sees Harry flipping pancakes in the kitchen, dressed in dark skinnies matched with a floral shirt that’s half unbuttoned along with the headscarf around his head, he feels immensely underdressed. Then he realizes he’s being stupid and simply pressed a tired kiss to Harry’s cheek before sitting down at the table.

“Rough night?” Harry wonders quietly, setting a cup of coffee down on the table that Louis takes in his hands gratefully.

“You have no idea,” Louis mutters and Harry just presses a kiss to his forehead before going back to flipping his pancakes.

He likes the fact that he and Harry can be comfortable in silence. He’s never really had that with someone—just knowing he doesn’t have to say anything and they’ll understand.

It’s easy with Harry—simple, even.

Louis decides right there and then that other than Olivia, Harry is the only person he can handle on mornings like this.

Olivia skips in a few minutes later, dressed in almost identical outfit to Harry except her shirt is buttoned to the top.

He watches as she hugs Harry and then comes over to sit next to him, smiling brightly. “Good morning papa! You’re up early,” she notes, playfully kicking his leg.

“Good morning Liv,” he replies quietly, kicking back lightly before he busies himself with pouring orange juice into her cup. When he’s done, he nods. “I suppose I am. Thought I might walk with you and Harry to school.”

“That sounds great!” Olivia exclaims excitedly and Louis offers her a quick grin before drinking his coffee.

Harry joins them a minute later, setting two sets of pancakes in front of both him and Olivia. There’s smiley faces made from whip cream on both and Louis finds himself returning the smile.

“This is cute,” he mumbles to Harry who shrugs, ducking his head but Louis can see the smile on his face.

Louis swears he hears a, “Just like you,” but he’s half asleep so he’s not sure. He puts it off to nothing and continues eating his pancakes.

He’s still thinking about it twenty minutes later as they drop Olivia off at school.

The only thing that finally manages to distract him is the way the mothers close by are looking at him. He’s confused for a second but then he realizes it’s not _him_ they’re looking at but actually Harry.

Louis feels an irrational flare of jealously as they start giggling when Harry trips over his own feet. It shouldn’t matter since Louis is the one that reaches out and steadies him but all the same, there’s a bitter taste in Louis’ mouth.

He wants to yell at them, insist Harry isn’t theirs to giggle at but then he would truly sound insane because it’s not as if Harry is his either.

Harry seems completely oblivious, just politely smiling at the mothers before turning to Louis with cheeks dimpled and flushed from the cold. “You know, I don’t actually have class today,” he informs quietly as he reaches out to fix Louis’ beanie.

“Then what are we still doing here? Let’s go home,” Louis replies and maybe it’s because he’s already grown tired of the way the mothers are still staring.

“Home is it,” Harry agrees and they start walking, away from all the curious eyes and loud mouths.

Their hands brush occasionally and Louis thinks that maybe that’s what home really is—Harry’s touch.

He doesn’t say that aloud though.

-

Better days come and pass and through it all, Louis grows more and more attached to Harry. He doesn’t mean for it to happen but it somehow just _does_.

He likes that they can have stupid conversations and serious ones all the same. Likes that Harry doesn’t treat him like he’s Louis Tomlinson instead of just Louis.

-

They have a routine now. Harry washes the dishes and Louis dries them while Olivia sits on the counter and watches them although she’s often busy with her coloring book to pay attention to them.

Louis likes to think they’ve perfected their routine but apparently not because as Louis moves to put away another plate, Harry’s soapy hand reaches out and grabs his wrist. “Louis, what are you _doing_?”

“Putting away the dishes?” Louis replies slowly because he’s rather confused.

“Well you’re not putting it away right!” Harry reprimands, taking the dish himself and putting it in a completely different place.

Louis blinks at him in disbelief before saying, “It’s just a plate, Harry.”

In the corner of his eye he sees that Olivia puts down her coloring book to watch them just as Harry gasps quietly at Louis’ words. “There’s a _system_ ,” he informs, looking almost distraught.

“Alright,” Louis states before taking the next plate for Harry’s pile putting it in the right place. “Is that better?”

Harry’s reply is just sniffing haughtily before turning back to the sink. Louis snorts but then decides he likes getting on Harry’s nerves and goes back to his old system.

It takes another minute for Harry to notice but as soon as he does, he snatches the plate away from Louis with wide eyes. “What are you _doing_?” Harry hisses once again and Louis shrugs, leaning a hip against the counter.

“Nothing,” he replies and he smiles brightly at Harry.

Harry stares at him blankly for a few seconds before he shakes his head, pointing at the doorway. “Just leave. Respect me and these plates and just leave.”

“These are _my_ plates,” Louis reminds in disbelief, gesturing widely at the dishwasher. “I own these plates!”

“Well _your_ plates are serious business, _Lewis_. So do me a favor and shoo,” Harry demands in an overly sweet tone, blinking at Louis almost coquettishly.

Behind him, Olivia is giggling loudly and Louis narrows his eyes at her before frowning deeply. “Fine. Whatever,” he snaps at Harry, putting a fork in the spoon pile before huffing and walking out.

Olivia’s giggles only grow louder as he walks away and eventually Harry joins in. Louis refuses to admit that it makes him smile to hear both of his favorite people laugh.

He also refuses to admit that he sets an alarm for three in the morning and sneaks out of his room with every intention to fuck up the entire ‘system’ Harry has.

The only thing is that he doesn’t anticipate seeing a dark figure at his kitchen table and therefore he is not responsible for the shrill scream he lets out or the way he runs over to the nearest closet and takes out a bat.

He’s just glad he doesn’t piss himself.

When Louis comes back to the kitchen, the light is on and Harry is sitting there with wide, confused eyes and a book in his lap. “What the fuck?” Harry wonders, gesturing towards Louis who’s still standing in a defensive stance. “Why the hell do you have a bat?”

“Why are _you_ sitting in the kitchen reading,” Louis squints at the book cover, “Charles Bukowski at the three in the fucking morning?”

Louis feels a little embarrassed now because Harry is decidedly not the axe-killing murderer that he assumed. He’s still probably going to die but it’ll be out of shame and not from being killed.

“I don’t know, my _homework_?” Harry replies, obviously bewildered. “Jesus, what were you going to do? Hit me?”

“I’m sure as hell thinking about it,” Louis threatens but it’s an empty threat.

Louis puts the bat down on the kitchen counter and sighs, leaning against the kitchen counter. That’s when a thought hits him. “Wait, you were doing your homework in the _dark_?”

He knows he just caught Harry in a lie because the younger man flushes, avoiding Louis’ gaze. “So what if I was?”

“No, you weren’t,” Louis accuses, pointing a finger. “You were waiting for me!”

Harry pouts, staring up at Louis through his eyelashes. “Because I _knew_ you were going to do this!” he protests feebly.

“Unbelievable,” Louis mutters before turning off the light with the switch near the doorway. “Have fun doing your homework, twinkle toes.”

As he’s heading back down the hallway, he hears Harry yell, “I will, thank you!” and he rolls his eyes, fondly. Louis is living with an idiot.

He rather likes it though.

✿✿✿

“Have you ever noticed that papa looks at you a lot?” Olivia asks, wiggling her toes.

Harry makes a face at her before adjusting his grip on her ankle so that it’s a little tighter. “Stop that,” he scolds lightly when she giggles and tries to wiggle her toes again. “I’m trying to paint your toenails, Olive. Don’t make this hard for me.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she says but she doesn’t look apologetic. “Have you noticed though?”

“He looks at you a lot too,” Harry retorts and he laughs when Olivia kicks his arm lightly with her other foot. “What? He does though.”

Olivia sighs exasperatedly and Harry laughs again at how even when she’s frustrated, she’s absolutely adorable. “You know that’s not what I meant!” she complains, throwing her hands up for effect. “He doesn’t look at me the way he looks at you!”

Harry raises an eyebrow, moving onto her pinky toe and painting it a light shade of orange. “And how exactly does he look at me, Olive?”

“The way Spiderman looks at Gwen!” Olivia hollers, pointing to the television screen where they’re both watching the second Spiderman film with Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone for the third time this month.

She often just makes references and points to the television screen or her iPad or even Harry’s phone sometimes to prove her point further.

“Gwen dies, dear,” Harry reminds, giggling when Olivia gasps and pulls her foot out of his grasp. He sets the nail polish to the side and waits for her to start shouting him.

He’s not disappointed because a second later, Olivia’s yelling, “That was _mean_!” while glaring at him.

“We’ve already seen this movie,” Harry protests to no avail because Olivia just huffs and pulls her legs up to her chest. “Oh, come on Olivia.”

“No,” she deadpans and Harry sighs, rolling his eyes before scooting closer to her making her screech, “Stop, you monster!”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Oh, I’m a monster now?” he asks before lunging forward and digging his fingers into his sides, tickling her.

“Oh my God, _no!_ ” Olivia shrieks through her giggles, rolling onto her back and kicking her legs at him. He easily dodges them and keeping tickling her. “ _Stop!_ ”

“Who’s a monster again?” Harry asks her, grinning mischievously at the way she writhes underneath him.

Olivia bloody _screams_ and flails her arms, shaking her head. “I don’t know!”

Harry doesn’t let up, still tickling her as he says, “That’s not good enough, Olive.”

“Not you!” Olivia finally shouts, giggling high-pitched. “I’m sorry, I love you!”

With a loud exaggerated sigh, Harry stops tickling her and lets his hands fall to his side. “That’s better. I love you too—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because Olivia shoves at his chest and Harry exhales sharply in surprise as he falls back to the ground.

Almost immediately Olivia starts tickling him, giggling delightedly and he decides not to mention that he’s not ticklish. Instead, he starts laughing and lets her tickle her until she gets tired at which point he takes her in his arms and sets her down on the couch.

Harry knows she’s about to fall asleep because she leans up to whisper in his ear, “Love you very much a lot,” before resting her head on his chest.

Olivia is fast asleep when he runs his hands though her hair and mumbles, “Love you very much a lot too, Olive,” against her temple.

-

Niall is the worst best friend ever for many reasons.

One being that he _constantly_ takes the piss out of Harry, even when things aren’t funny. In fact, the situation at hand is rather serious and Harry can’t help but pout at the way Niall is laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Harry grumbles, stepping on Niall’s foot in effort to get back at him.

It doesn’t work because Niall just laughs harder. The people around them at the tattoo parlor are watching them warily and if Harry weren’t such good friends with the owner, he has no doubt they would’ve been kicked out.

“It’s not funny that you’re getting a fucking star tattooed on your arm because that’s what bloody Louis calls you?” Niall retorts smugly and Harry glares at him.

“No one asked for your opinion. I just happen to like stars. Fuck off,” Harry hisses back at him just as his friend Ed comes back in to the waiting room, gesturing for Harry to follow him towards the back.

Harry gets up to go after him and Niall does too, although he’s still chuckling quietly under his breath. The star tattoo isn’t even the main reason he’s there but of course it’s what Niall is focusing on.

“So what can I do for you today, Harry?” Ed asks, sitting down as he nods to Niall. “Nice to see you, mate.”

Before Harry can open his mouth and answer, Niall cuts him off by laughing again. “Ed, you won’t _believe_ how whipped Haz is.”

Ed, the traitor, grins brightly. “He’s getting a tattoo for that Louis bloke, isn’t he? Cara and I were running bets on when he would crack.”

Harry gapes at Ed but neither he nor Niall pay him attention. “Louis called him his twinkle twinkle little star the other day,” Niall confides, voice hushed as if Harry can’t still hear him.

“Let me guess,” Ed says, turning back to look at Harry again. “Where am I tattooing the star on you?”

Harry pouts again but points to the inside of his upper arm, right next to where Louis doodled _Hi_ into his skin last night.

“Did you want me to tattoo the word ‘Hi’ into your arm too?” Ed asks, staring at Harry expectantly.

Unsure whether or not Ed is being serious, Harry narrows his eyes but then it comes to the realization that he is indeed being serious and widen his eyes. “You can do that?”

Ed shrugs, getting up from his chair and rifling through a drawer. He comes back with a thin piece of flimsy paper and waves it in Harry’s face. “If you want, I can. Just need to put the imprint here so I can wipe the ink off your arm. Don’t want you to get an infection,” he explains, sitting down again.

On Harry’s other side, Niall is positively cackling in amusement so Harry takes a moment to think about whether or not he _really_ wants to tattoo Louis’ handwriting into his arm.

It’s not that Harry’s hesitant about getting tattoos that seem silly to others—he has dozens of those but they all mean something to _him_ so he doesn’t really care what other people think. It’s just that now he’s trying to figure out what this tattoo would mean.

More importantly, he’s trying to figure out what Louis will think it means. He himself knows that he’s in love with Louis but it’s not like _Louis_ knows.

Getting a tattoo for someone isn’t a small thing—Harry knows that he’s already pushing his luck with the star.

Eventually he nods his head because even if things somehow go bad with Louis he wants to remember—remember how he felt when Louis pressed the marker into the skin where Harry is most sensitive and the way Harry giggled and Louis smiled back at him.

He wants to remember that.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry mumbles and Ed gets to work.

As much of a horrible best friend Niall is, he’s also a pretty great one because after he stops laughing, he holds Harry’s hand and talks his ear off, keeping him distracted.

It’s only when Ed finishes that Harry asks for one more tattoo—the real reason he came.

“Could you do the letter _O_ right here?” Harry asks, gesturing towards the inside of his right elbow. He already has an _A_ on his left arm, both in the crease of his elbow and his left shoulder. The letter _G_ is on his right arm along with the actual _Gemma_ written in Hebrew on his left.

If anyone deserves a tattoo, it’s Olivia and Harry plans on getting more as time goes on. Olivia is—if not _the_ most important person—one of the most important people in his life now and he would probably take give his life for her.

Harry loves her more than words can explain and well; that’s why he has his tattoos, isn’t it? It’s to explain things that he can’t with words.

“Christ, just marry Louis already,” Niall mutters, standing up so Ed can move his chair to the right side of Harry’s body. “You’re practically a part of the family.”

Harry sighs, turning his head to face Niall. “I’m just the nanny,” he reminds quietly.

“I think we all know you’re so much more than that,” Niall scoffs and if Harry could shrug, he would.

Harry really doesn’t know where he stands with the Tomlinson family. Maybe he should figure it out. It would probably be in his best interests to find out sooner than later.

✿✿✿

It’s not until Harry leaves them for a day that Louis realizes exactly how big of a part of his and Olivia’s lives that Harry has become.

“I miss him,” Olivia sulks, playing with strand of her hair dejectedly.

Louis sighs because that’s the third time Olivia’s told him that in the last twenty minutes. “I know, darling,” he replies without looking away from the newspaper in front of him.

“When is he coming home?” Olivia asks, hopping down from her chair to poke Louis in the leg.

Louis prides himself on not losing his patience for the last few hours but he really worries he’s going to end up snapping at Olivia if she doesn’t stop bringing up Harry every few seconds.

It’s not even that it’s annoying—it’s just that it reminds Louis that _he_ misses Harry.

“I don’t know, Liv,” he replies, lacing her fingers though his own so she’ll stop insistently poking him.

Olivia sighs, throwing herself over his lap melodramatically. She is his daughter after all so he’s not that surprised at her actions. “I miss him.”

 _Four times in the last twenty minutes_ , Louis corrects himself.

“I think you’re just bored,” Louis replies, folding his newspaper because he knows he’s not going to get anymore reading done so long as Harry is gone.

Olivia shakes her head at him before pointing to her chest with her free hand. “No papa, I miss him! My heart hurts because he’s gone.”

Louis gives her a flat look. “Your heart hurts?”

She nods, frowning deeply. “Doesn’t your heart hurt? Don’t you miss him too?”

“He’s only been gone for a few hours,” Louis reminds, standing up now and leading Olivia to the living room so they can both sit in the couch. It sort of smells like Harry—cinnamon and maple syrup.

Louis read somewhere that familiar smells often comfort people and in Olivia’s case, he’s really hoping it’s true.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t miss him!” Olivia protests, settling into Louis’ side with ease. “You miss him too, don’t you?”

“Would it make you happy if I said I was?” Louis asked, brushing her hair behind her ear. She’s not wearing a headscarf today and he suspects it’s because it makes her miss Harry even more.

“No,” Olivia replies bluntly, tugging lightly at a loose string from her shirt. “It would make me happy if you said it because you mean it.”

The thing is that if Louis says it out loud, it becomes too real. It’s alright for an eight year old to miss her nanny but for her grown father to miss him is just—it’s not something that’s supposed to happen.

“I do,” Louis confides, lowering his voice. “I do miss Harry.”

Olivia nods, whispering, “I know,” before kissing his cheek lightly and settling back into his side.

Louis thinks that Olivia knows far too much—way more than she’s supposed to, anyways. He has no doubt that Olivia knows more about his crush on Harry than Zayn does.

Her perspective isn’t skewed and she takes everything at face value. Louis knows he’s obvious and Olivia knows it too but thankfully, she never _really_ brings it up.

“I really do miss him though,” Olivia murmurs, face hidden in his shirt and Louis frowns, wondering when the two of them became so dependent on Harry.

He doesn’t really have an answer so Louis merely squeezes Olivia’s shoulder gently. “He’ll come home soon,” he tells her quietly.

Olivia blinks up at him thoughtfully and she softly asks, “Are we Harry’s home?”

Louis tilts his head, weighing his options before shrugging. “Maybe you should ask him that, Liv.”

-

She does ask him.

Harry says yes.

-

Louis doesn’t know what it is but Harry’s hiding something.

He notices it slowly over the next few days and it’s itching at him to figure out what it is. He doesn’t want just outright _ask_ Harry because there’s every possibility that he’s wrong but at the same time, he really wants to know.

The day of Olivia’s school carnival, Louis decides that he’s going to ask when they get a spare moment alone.

Except for the fact that… they don’t.

Right from the get go, Olivia drags them to different stalls, insisting she wants _that_ elephant toy and _that_ tiger toy.

Louis’ the one that ends up playing for most of the stalls because Harry can’t hit a target to save his life.

“Sorry, sorry,” he hears Harry mutter to Olivia in embarrassment. His cheeks are flushed a light pink that matches the headscarf around his head.

“It’s fine,” Olivia assures him before shouting, “Go papa!” and jumping up and down in excitement.

Louis grins at her before tossing another ball into a bucket. “Thanks, Liv,” he calls back, taking another handful of plastic balls from the girl running the stall.

When Olivia starts insisting she wants to go on the rides, Harry is the one that obliges and takes her. That leaves Louis by himself, waiting at a bench.

He busies himself with his phone and after a minute passes by, someone takes the seat next to him.

Louis doesn’t pay them any attention until they tap his shoulder lightly at which point he turns towards them, lowering his sunglasses.

“Are you Mr. Tomlinson?” the woman asks, her voice high pitched.

Louis blinks at her in confusion before completely taking off his glasses and nodding. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Oh my goodness, you’re Olivia’s father then?” she asks, visibility excited although Louis has no idea why.

“Again, yes, that’s me,” he agrees, unsure whether he should be answering her questions.

Then the woman makes a gesture and about three more women come up to him, looking as excited as the original woman. “It’s so lovely to meet you!” a new woman says, reaching forward to take the hand he has rested on the bench arm.

Louis flinches away in surprise but none of the women seem to care. “I’m sorry, I don’t—who are you?” he wonders suspiciously.

“Oh, well we’re part of the PTA! We’ve never seen you at any meetings and earlier we saw you with Olivia so we figured we’d come introduce ourselves!” the original woman speaks up, grinning brightly.

“Um, alight,” Louis stammers before nodding at them. “It’s nice to meet you all too.”

If Louis’ not mistaken, they’re all staring at him a certain way and he recognizes the look rather quickly. He used to see it all the time at work and he had to make a formal announcement one morning to say that he was very much not into women and he would appreciate if everyone understood that he didn’t plan on dating anyone in the office.

He doesn’t think that same announcement will work here.

“My daughter tells me that you’re Olivia’s only parent?” a different mother asks, a concerned expression on her face that Louis doesn’t buy at all. “That must be tough.”

“Sometimes,” Louis replies before he stands up, dusting off his jeans. “I’m sorry, I really should find Olivia.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” the original mother says, standing up as well. “I’m sure Olivia’s fine.”

Louis laughs nervously, taking a few steps back and shaking his head. “I don’t really know…”

“Tell us more about you, Mr. Tomlinson! Don’t go just yet,” another mother insists, stepping closer.

Out of pure politeness and the fact he doesn’t want them to follow after him, he nods his head painstakingly. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

“Well, where’s Mrs. Tomlinson?” one of the mothers from before asks. “Olivia’s mother?”

Louis’ mouth dries and he finds that he doesn’t really have an answer to tell them. He rarely talks about Stan and Hannah—in fact, the only two people who he’s told are Niall and Harry since Zayn and Liam were there when it happened. It’s not an experience he particularly likes talking about.

He especially doesn’t want to tell it to the gossiping mothers of Olivia’s classmates.

Thankfully, he’s saved from saying something because someone hooks a chin over his shoulder and holds out a stick of cotton candy in front of him.

“For you, sweetcheeks,” Harry teases in his ear and Louis exhales in relief. He’s almost delighted when Harry leans in to press a kiss to his cheek because all of the mothers visibly deflate.

“Thank you,” Louis replies quietly, taking the cotton candy from Harry before offering it to the mothers. “Would you like some?”

The original mother shakes her head, smiling tightly at him. Louis grins back and Harry leans in to whisper, “Who are they?” in his ear.

Louis leans up so his lips brush against Harry’s ear. He feels Harry shiver just as he murmurs, “Don’t worry about it.”

Olivia comes skipping over then, her friend Abbey in tow. “Me and Abbey are going to the merry-go-round! Okay?”

“Sounds great, Olive,” Harry says just as Louis corrects, “Abbey and I. Not me and Abbey.”

Harry snorts in his ear and Olivia rolls her eyes, shrugging before she says, “Whatever, papa! I’ll come back soon!”

Her best friend Abbey giggles before the two of them run off towards the merry-go-round.

Louis turns back to the mothers but they’re all gone and he laughs incredulously.

“What’s so funny?” Harry wonders, unhooking his chin so he can step around Louis and pull some of the cotton candy off the stick.

“Nothing,” Louis says but then all words die in his throat as Harry sticks the cotton candy in his mouth, licking it off his fingers.

He doesn’t know how long he’s staring until Harry blinks down at him, looking bewildered. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Louis clears his throat before nodding jerkily. “I’m great. Fantastic, even,” he replies before gesturing towards the merry-go-round. “We can go wait for Olivia there?”

Harry stares at him for another moment, obviously still confused but then he shrugs and starts walking in that direction.

It’s probably bad that Louis spends a moment watching his hips swing as he walks but he doesn’t spend too much time feeling guilty about it—instead, he jogs after Harry until he catches up.

What is definitely bad is the fact that Louis can’t tear his eyes away from Harry’s lips which are a pretty pink color today, similar to the cotton candy Louis is still holding.

The only reason he knows Harry is talking is the fact that his lips move, causing Louis to break out of his moment to listen to what Harry has to say. “You know, I thought this would be more Halloween themed,” he muses.

“Well we can’t get everything that we want, twinkle toes,” Louis teases and ignores the fact that it applies to him more than anything else.

Harry pouts at him but doesn’t say anything else.

Their arms swing between them as they walk and when they brush, Harry flinches. Louis gives him a confused look but Harry’s expression is completely blank.

“Is your arm alright?” Louis checks but Harry doesn’t answer, cheeks flushing pink.

Louis widens his eyes at the implications of that. So _that_ ’ _s_ what Harry was hiding. A new tattoo.

The first thing Louis does is hand the cotton candy to a random boy that’s walking past him before he grabs Harry’s hand, stopping him from walking any further.

“Show me,” Louis insists, trying and failing to hide his excited grin. “Come on, I want to _see_.”

Harry sighs loudly but then he rolls up his jumper sleeve until he reaches his elbow crease where there’s a large bandage. “Happy?”

Louis doesn’t answer the question, instead asking his own, “Can I take it off? The tattoo’s not that new, right?”

“Go ahead,” Harry replies, rolling his eyes and Louis presses a quick kiss to his cheek before reaching forward and quickly tugging the bandage off.

Underneath the bandage, there’s a single letter _O_ and suddenly Louis is speechless.

“Is—um, is that for Olivia?” Louis asks and he hates the way his voice is choked up.

Harry nods, looking slightly nervous and he goes to roll his sleeve down but Louis grabs his wrist again, stopping him.

“It’s great,” Louis murmurs, smiling at Harry slowly. With his free hand, he scrubs a hand over his face to make sure he doesn’t start crying.

Once he’s sure, he tilts his head towards the merry-go-round. “Show her,” he whispers and Harry’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “It’ll make her really happy, twinkle toes. Please?”

Finally Harry nods and Louis grins at him, linking their fingers together before dragging him towards the merry-go-round.

When Harry shows Olivia, she legitimately breaks into tears right there, hugging him tightly.

Harry looks surprised at first but then he crouches and hugs her more properly while Louis watches on. He doesn’t know what Harry’s whispering in Olivia’s ear but it makes her cry harder and cling tighter.

Louis leaves them alone, knowing that Harry can take care of her and instead he helps Abbey find her mother (which thankfully, isn’t one of the women from before).

Olivia isn’t crying when he comes back but she’s beaming brightly and Harry’s smiling right back. Louis thinks that if there’s any person in the world that loves Olivia nearly as much as he does, it’s Harry.

He also thinks if there’s anyone Olivia loves nearly as much as she loves him, it’s Harry.

Louis knows he’s right concerning both.

-

Halloween is the night that Louis realizes that his feelings for Harry might not be one-sided.

Harry insisted they all dress up and Louis begrudgingly agreed, half for Olivia who was staring at him with puppy dog eyes and the other half because of Harry’s answering beam when he said yes.

Louis is going as Iron Man, Olivia is going as Snow White and Harry is going as Captain America.

When he’s with Harry putting on their costumes (since Louis can’t get into his own by himself), Louis sees the new tattoo on Harry’s underarm.

“Is that a star?” Louis asks incredulously, darting forward to stop Harry before he can put on the shirt for his costume. “Harry, is that a _star_?”

Harry stammers incoherently for a second and Louis just stares at him with wide eyes until he nods, ducking his head.

“You—Christ,” Louis breathes out before squinting at the _Hi_ written above it. He remembers putting it there at least a week ago and it hasn’t smudged off yet.

Louis doesn’t know why but he presses his thumb against the skin there, trying to see if the marker rubs off or not. When it doesn’t, Louis can’t help the gasp that leaves his lips. “Did you—fuck, is this a tattoo?”

“Yes,” Harry confirms before gently pulling his arm away. “I like to get tattoos when I’m happy. In five years, maybe ten years—I want to remember this moment. I want to see that tattoo and think ‘remember the time Louis doodled on my arm?’ before smiling. Is that wrong?”

“No,” Louis replies but he’s still staring at Harry’s arm incredulously. Harry got a tattoo because of _him_.

He doesn’t get a chance to stare any longer because Harry slips his shirt over his head and offers Louis a smile. “Alright then. I’m going to go help Olive with her costume, yeah?”

Louis nods, unable to speak and Harry presses a kiss to his temple before leaving the room.

He guessed that Harry might have feelings for him—but this is something so much more than that. Harry is willing to ink Louis onto him forever.

Louis thinks that maybe Harry’s tattooed onto his heart forever and then forces the thought from his mind quickly. This isn’t an ‘always in my heart’ case.

-

It’s possible that Louis is very stupid. Really possible. There’s no other reason he would be attempting to cook dinner.

Well, Louis’ reasoning is because he wants to prove to Harry that he can in fact cook without burning down the entire flat.

The proving part isn’t going so well considering the food is actually on fire.

As soon as Zayn picks up his call, Louis quickly says, “Hey, Z, I need your help,” into his phone while eyeing the fire distrustfully.

Zayn, the absolute tosser, groans and asks, “Oh my God, what did you _do_?”

Louis decides there’s really no use beating around the bush so he comes right out with it, “I think I set the food on fire.”

“Lou _is_ , you idiot!” Zayn shouts over the line, “Put it out!”

“How do I put it out?” Louis shouts back, furrowing his eyebrows. “Do I call the firemen? I mean, we don’t have a fire extinguisher so I don’t really know what to do!”

Zayn groans loudly on the other end again and asks, “Are you _stupid_?” rather offensively.

Louis doesn’t justify him with a response, merely glaring and that’s when Harry comes into the kitchen, rubbing a towel through his hair.

“Hey, Lou, are you alright? I heard you yelling,” Harry says before wrinkling his nose. “What’s that smell?”

“It’s nothing and yes, I’m _fine_ ,” Louis assures and in his ear, Zayn yells, “No, he’s not!” so loudly that even Harry seems to here from across the kitchen.

Harry sees the meal that’s on fire then and his eyes widen in disbelief just as Louis hangs up on Zayn because he’s definitely not being helpful.

He opens his mouth to explain but Harry cuts him off with, “When I wrote ‘if this room was burning, I wouldn’t even notice’ I was _kidding_. You know that, right?”

Louis makes a face at him. “It’s fine. We’ll just put it out.”

Harry raises an eyebrow but then he shrugs, putting his towel on the back of a chair before looking around. When he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, he turns back to Louis. “Where’s the fire extinguisher?”

“I don’t have one,” Louis replies slowly, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Real funny,” Harry snorts before taking another cursory glance around. “But seriously, where is it?”

“I don’t… I don’t have one?” Louis repeats, unsure what he’s supposed to say. He didn’t know it was common for people to have fire extinguishers in their houses—why does everyone keep asking him where it is?

Harry seems to realize he’s serious because his eyes widen in alarm. “What? Why don’t you have one?”

“No one ever cooked here before you!” Louis protests, crossing his arms sulkily and the smoke alarm starts to go off somewhere nearby.

“But… _fires_?” Harry says incredulously and he sounds almost offensive as Zayn did earlier when he was calling Louis stupid.

That’s why Louis snaps, “Well I’m sorry, why didn’t you bring your own damn extinguisher?”

Harry’s eyes narrow and he retorts, “Oh yeah, sorry, let me just grab it out of my fucking _pocket_ , Louis.”

Louis frowns at him but doesn’t say anything back sincehe doesn’t want to argue with Harry because of the food he set on fire stupidly trying to prove a point.

Eventually, Harry sighs loudly and grabs his towel off the chair and begins to wave it over the burning food.

“How is this helping?” Louis wonders.

“It’s better than what you’re doing,” Harry replies, frowning as he continues to repeatedly hit the burning food with his towel.

Louis glares at him, saying, “Sorry I’m not a fire expert.”

When Harry’s face softens and he turns to Louis to grin and say, “That’s strange because you’re smoking,” Louis feels the own tension slip out of his shoulders as he rolls his eyes fondly.

“Now is not the time for horrible puns, Harry. Honestly,” Louis mutters trying to hide his smile while shaking his head before he cocks his head towards the door. “I’m going to fix the smoke alarm. You… do whatever it is that you’re doing.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Harry says, saluting him and Louis snorts but salutes back before leaving the kitchen.

What he and Harry have right now—it’s weird. They’re almost as a crossfire of sorts. He really doubts Harry’s going to make the first move and he knows he sure as hell isn’t so he supposes they’re just going to be stuck in limbo for who knows how long.

Louis is strangely alright with that.

-

The rest of the month is normal in the only way it can be. Life goes on the way it has for the last nine months and Louis finds that he cares about Harry a lot more than he intended.

Harry continues to sing in small pubs every now and then—nothing serious because he wants to take his time and Louis is more than happy to let him. Louis goes to work and comes back home to his two favorite people in the world. Olivia continues to smile smugly at the two of them anytime they so much as talk. It’s all normal.

One day Harry writes ‘oops’ into his arm and Louis’ first instinct is to get it tattooed so he does.

Harry is irresistible and Louis finds that it’s harder than it seems to control himself around the younger man. Louis has a lot of crazy impulses when it comes to Harry but most of the time he manages to restrain himself. Louis wonders if Harry knows what he does to Louis—he thinks maybe he does.

Louis has never been a chance-taker. Everything he does, is carefully considered and only done when he’s assured the outcome is for the best.

Hiring Harry was a chance that he didn’t consider the outcome for. It turned out to be best decision he’s ever made.

All the same, Louis doubts he’ll be lucky twice in a row which is why he doesn’t take another chance on Harry.

He figures what’s meant to happen will happen.

-

The night that changes everything starts out just like any other.

Louis is watching a film with his feet in Harry’s lap while Harry reads a book.

When Harry shuts the book all of a sudden, Louis blinks up at him. “Something wrong, twinkle toes?” he checks, pausing the film.

Harry smiles at him so Louis assumes it’s nothing serious. “Um, you know how my stepfather Robin is American?”

Louis nods. “Yeah, he’s the one that travels back and forth a lot, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, biting his bottom lip and he looks hesitant for some reason Louis doesn’t understand. “I don’t get to see him all that often since usually when I visit my mum, he’s in America. This weekend he’s coming back for Thanksgiving. I mean, we don’t celebrate it since it’s an American holiday but he does since, well. You know. So when he’s home, we all celebrate it together.”

“Oh,” Louis says before sitting up straighter. “You wanted to go back for Thanksgiving then?”

Harry nods, still biting his lip. “Is that alright? It’ll only be for a days. It’s just that I never see him and it really sucks. I miss him, you know? He’s family too.”

Louis just stares at Harry and he doesn’t know why but those words stir something inside of him. He thinks of all the days he’s left Olivia to deal with some insane nanny while he went off on countless business trip and he feels a little sick.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Louis mumbles before clenching his eyes shut and focusing on breathing. He’s never really considered the impact it might have on Olivia—never to this extent anyways.

He always figured she’d be fine but if Harry, a twenty-one year old, misses his stepdad because he doesn’t get to see him often he wonders what him going away all the time does to Olivia.

“Hey, are you alright? If it’s bad timing or whatever, I’ll stay,” Harry assures, putting a hand on Louis’ shoulder that does little to comfort him. “Louis, babe?”

Louis shakes his head at him before blinking his eyes open. His eyelashes are wet. “It’s not that,” he assures weakly before giving Harry a pathetic look. “I’m a terrible father, aren’t I?”

“What?” Harry starts, looking surprised. “Of course not, Lou. Where is this coming from?”

“I’m an awful father,” Louis whispers, unable to speak much louder than that because of the lump in his throat. “I could never raise a daughter. I’m not supposed to raise a daughter.”

“Louis, what are you talking about?” Harry protests before he pushes Louis’ legs off the couch and comes closer. Louis doesn’t even flinch. “You’re a great father. No one could raise Olivia better.”

“Anyone could raise her better,” Louis mutters and he feels water pooling in his eyes. “Stan should be the one raising her. He and Hannah. Not me. I’m not cut out for this.”

Harry’s even closer than before now and Louis’ only slightly surprised when Harry’s long arms wrap around him, pulling him towards his chest. “Shut up,” Harry demands quietly, lips pressed to Louis’ temple.

Louis makes a pathetic noise in return and Harry shushes him again, shaking his head. “You’re doing a great job, Lou. And you’re going to _keep_ doing a great job. You lost your best friend but you still find the strength to raise his daughter and that’s fucking _amazing_ , Louis. I doubt I could do it if I was in your place but you do because you’re so strong. You’re doing such a damn good job.”

“Do you really think so?” Louis whispers, hating how insecure he sounds. He’s never liked being weak and that doesn’t change now.

Harry nods, “I know so.”

They’re silent for a few moments, Louis resting his head on Harry’s shoulder.

When Louis finally feels okay to breathe again, he makes a move to go the bathroom but before he can, Harry’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

Louis stares at their hands in confusion before looking up at Harry who looks hesitant.

“What’s wrong?” Louis wonders, sitting back down next to Harry. “Did I upset you?”

“No,” Harry assures quickly before biting his lip again. “There’s—erm, something else I wanted to tell you before.”

Harry sounds even more unsure than he did before and that makes alarm bells go off in Louis’ head but he ignores them, instead saying, “Well out with it then.”

“Okay, um,” Harry starts but then he looks lost, like he doesn’t know what to say. “It’s just that—fuck.”

“Hey, it’s alright, yeah?” Louis comforts, squeezing Harry’s hand.

That seems to clear things up for Harry because he nods before saying, “Fuck it,” quietly and Louis doesn’t have time to ask what he means before there’s lips pressed against his.

Louis starts in shock but he doesn’t pull away, simply surprised.

It feels natural to kiss Harry—it’s just easy, simple; and that’s why Louis leans in closer, his hand slipping into the curls at the back of Harry’s neck.

Kissing Harry feels like a chance and Louis belatedly realizes it’s one that he’s not supposed to take.

He jerks away, distraught and his fingers go to his lips almost immediately. “You kissed me,” Louis accuses, scooting further back on the couch—the one Harry picked out, he remembers briefly but the thought passes quickly.

Harry has a hurt expression on his face and his hand is suspended in the air, from where Louis abruptly let it go. “And you kissed me back,” he mumbles, frowning.

Louis shakes his head although he doesn’t know what he’s denying. What he manages to say is, “I can’t do this, Harry. We can’t do this. I have a daughter to raise.”

“Louis, I really like you,” Harry says earnestly, staring at him intently with wide, trusting eyes. Louis feels almost nauseous at the thought of breaking that trust.

“I really like you too,” Louis replies before he can help himself but then he shakes his head again, “but I can’t do this, Harry.”

“Louis…” Harry replies softly, reaching for him and Louis scoots further back. He hates that Harry’s face flickers with more hurt.

It takes a lot of the so-called strength Harry insists he has to say, “I think it’s best if you leave, Harry.”

There’s silence for a moment before Harry’s hand drops and he stares at Louis incredulously. “Leave?” Harry repeats dubiously.

Louis nods, turning away so he doesn’t have to look Harry in the eyes. “Leave for your mum’s place a little early. Just—please. Leave.”

He can feel Harry’s stare burning into the side of his face but Louis doesn’t look up from the floor. There’s some paint Olivia spilled last week dried there and it helps Louis to concentrate.

Finally, he sees Harry nod in his peripheral vision before the younger man stands up and walks out of the living room. The second Louis knows he’s truly gone, he collapses on himself.

Louis has never had something like this happen—he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say. All he knows that he just broke Harry’s heart and there’s no taking that back.

Harry, who feels like home.

When Harry comes back into the living room, he has a duffel back over his shoulder and he’s wearing a different jumper. His face is so terribly sad that Louis nearly starts crying again.

“Could you lock the door?” Harry asks quietly and Louis nods, standing up and following Harry to the front door.

Neither one of them has left the flat without a kiss from the other in months but it seems that’s what’s going to happen right now.

Louis still hasn’t met Harry’s eyes so when the younger man clears his throat and Louis looks up instinct, his heart sinks at the sight of glassy eyes and a red nose.

“I’ll—erm, see you in a few days then,” Harry mumbles.

There’s nothing Louis can say to that so he just nods and Harry hesitates in the doorway for a few minutes before he starts walking down the hallway.

Louis doesn’t call after him.

Instead, Louis shuts the door right away and sinks to the ground, feeling a lot like the worst person in the world.

That’s probably because he is.

✿✿✿

The second Anne opens the door, Harry’s pulled into a tight hug.

The next second, his mother is staring at him in bewilderment. “What are you doing here at in two in the morning, Harry?” she asks, opening the door wider and letting him in.

Harry just frowns miserably at her.

She seems to understand almost immediately because her face falls and she pulls him into another hug. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, yeah?”

Harry nods before he heads upstairs to his old bedroom. It’s just the same as he left it before he went to uni and it makes him feel strangely nostalgic.

He falls asleep quickly but when he wakes up, his heart hurts just as badly as it did the night before.

It’s strange to have someone make _him_ breakfast instead of the other way around but it’s nice all the same and he thanks his mother with a peck to the cheek before sitting down at the kitchen table and eating.

Anne joins him a second later and the two of them eat breakfast in silence. When they finish, Harry tries to take his dish to the sink but Anne shakes her head at him and tells him to go the living room.

He obliges only because even his bones feel tired.

“Do I need to send Gemma to break his limbs?” his mother asks a few minutes later, sitting next to him as a rerun of some show plays on the telly.

Harry laughs quietly but it sounds empty to even himself. “That’s alright,” he assures before smiling sadly at her. “I kissed him.”

Anne nods. “And what happened?”

“He kissed back,” Harry informs, his smile fading. “But then he kicked me out.”

He doesn’t like the frown on his mother’s face but he doubts she likes the one of his either. “I thought you said things were going well with Louis,” she says, giving him a concerned look.

“They were,” he replies wistfully. “He has this idea that—that if he’s with me then he won’t be able to raise Olive right.”

Bringing up Olivia makes him feel worse because he left without saying goodbye properly. He left her a note though and he hopes she gets the chance to read it.

His mother looks confused now. “I think without you, he wouldn’t even be able to raise Olivia right,” she says, pressing her lips together in a tight line. “You told me what he was like before. What if he goes right back to that now that you’re gone? How’s that raising her right?”

“He won’t,” Harry denies, feeling oddly defensive on Louis’ behalf. “He wouldn’t do that now. He understands.”

Anne hums thoughtfully before she shrugs. “I don’t know, Harry. If you believe that, then alright. I trust you.”

Harry smiles sadly at her again before reaching over and hugging her tightly. “I love you, mum.”

“Love you too, H,” she replies, smiling back. “Now cheer up. I don’t want you to be sad while you’re here.”

“Can we play scrabble?” Harry asks hopefully even though he knows not even board games with his mother will help him cheer up.

His mother must know that too but she nods anyways. “Of course we can. Gemma’s supposed to come tonight too so I’m sure she’ll tease the sad right out of you.”

“Let’s hope so,” Harry mutters weakly.

-

Harry’s week somehow gets worse.

He gets a simple text from Louis saying, _don’t come back harry .giving niall the rest of your stuff to hold . sorry ._

He spends the entire night crying and he knows nothing’s going to make him feel better because he didn’t just lose Louis but he lost Olivia too. All because he was stupid enough to kiss Louis.

Harry would say his heart feels like it was crushed but his heart is still back in London with Louis and Olivia so he really can’t.

✿✿✿

Louis is a second away from ripping the papers in his hands.

“Olivia, can you please stop that,” he requests for the umpteenth time that hour alone and Olivia scowls at him but she stops clicking her pen.

He’s at his office and Olivia is with him because she absolutely refuses to have another nanny. If he thought she was adamant about it in the beginning of the year, he had no idea what was in store for him.

Louis’ stress levels are shooting through the roof—higher than they’ve ever been before. Olivia is the main root of it all because she seems to be _trying_ to make his life miserable.

All she does is yell and shout at him, before angrily stomping away. She rarely eats or sleeps and Louis is frankly concerned for her wellbeing at this point.

He’s never seen her this upset before—it usually only lasts a day and he can often just buy her something she wants for her to cheer up. That isn’t the case here.

Ever since Louis told her that Harry wasn’t coming back, she’s been furious with him.

At first, Olivia didn’t speak to him for a whole day but when she finally did, it was, “Fix this papa. Fix this right now.”

He just shrugged and told her not all things can be fixed. Her response was to let out a frustrated scream before she left his room angrily.

Louis’ been keeping his cool the best that he can but he can slowly feel everything slip out of his control. Everything is building up and Louis is afraid he’s just going to explode when he hits his limit.

The thing is, he can’t stop feeling Harry’s lips against his.

He’s been trying to push Harry out of his mind but he just _can’t_. He sees Harry in everything, from the entire kitchen to random books he sees lying around.

Olivia hasn’t been helping since all she does is complain about missing Harry.

From taking her to school, to dropping her off at ballet classes and taking her to work with him, Louis hears more about Harry than he hears about anything else.

It’s too much for one person to handle alone but then he remembers that Harry did all of this and more. Harry who’s a better person than he could ever be.

He hasn’t heard from Harry since the night of their falling out but he knows from Zayn that Harry’s staying with Niall for the moment. Harry’s made no effort to contact him and maybe it’s for the best but Louis misses him just as much as Olivia does, if not more.

Nothing feels right without Harry there.

Liam insists Louis just text Harry and fix it all—and Louis thinks about it at least once a day. He considers just texting Harry sorry about everything but he can never bring himself to do it.

If he’s with Harry then he can’t be a proper father to Olivia and that’s his main priority. Even if Olivia is mad at him now, she’ll get over it and so will he. He hopes.

Thankfully, Olivia has a sleepover planned with her friend Abbey this weekend so Louis will finally get some peace and quiet.

He doesn’t really look forward to being alone though.

-

 

Friday night comes around both all too quickly and far too slowly.

Louis drops Olivia off at Abbey’s house at six in the evening, saying, “Be good, Liv, alright? I love you very much a lot.”

She frowns at him but as always she replies with, “I love you very much a lot too, papa. I’ll see you on Sunday.” He gets a quick kiss on the cheek before she runs out of the car with her stuff.

Olivia waves at him from the doorstep before disappearing inside and Louis waves back.

He ends up at home with nothing to do so he tries to take a nap.

Sleep just won’t come to him though and instead, he finds himself thinking about Harry.

Louis knows he’s never felt about someone the way he feels about Harry but he doesn’t want to apply the L word because it’s been so long since he truly felt the way about someone.

If anyone was going to be it for Louis though, it would be Harry.

No one has ever fit into his life the way Harry did—he slipped in like the missing puzzle piece that Louis never knew existed and he made everything so much _better_.

Louis is so busy thinking about Harry that he nearly falls off his bed when his phone staring blaring the obnoxious marimba ringtone.

When he finally answers the one, he hears crying on the other end that he recognizes almost immediately. “Olivia?” Louis asks. “What’s wrong, love? Are you alright?”

“Papa,” Olivia cries on the other end and Louis is out of bed in five seconds flat, already stepping into his shoes. “Papa, c-can you come g-get me?”

“Of course, I can,” he reassures her while grabbing his keys and coat.

Olivia sniffles on the other end before she quietly mumbles, “I’m s-sorry, papa.”

Louis frowns and shakes his head but he knows she can’t see it. “Don’t be sorry, Liv. I’m coming right now, okay? Give me fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,” she whimpers. “I l-love you.”

“I love you too, Liv,” he says right before he loses reception in the elevator. He doesn’t bother calling back—just gets in his car and drives.

Louis probably breaks half a dozen speeding laws but he doesn’t really care because Olivia was just on the phone _crying_ for him.

That’s never happened before.

Olivia’s a strong girl and she’s never been scared of sleepovers before—he doesn’t know what’s different this time but he really doesn’t care. All he cares about is that his daughter is alright.

He gets there in the fifteen minutes he said and as he’s getting out of his car, he sees another car pull up. Louis doesn’t pay it any attention, instead running over to Abbey’s house and ringing the doorbell.

It’s only when he’s standing at the door that Louis registers the footsteps behind him.

Louis turns around, confused and he nearly trips over nothing when he sees Harry standing there in a beanie and jumper, looking confused.

“Lou?” Harry wonders, seemingly frazzled.

“Harry?” he asks back, feeling oddly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Harry blinks at him and he’s just as beautiful as he was when Louis first met him. “Erm,” the curly haired man starts before he shrugs, looking small under the streetlight. “Olive called me bawling her eyes out and said she wanted to go home. I figured you were busy or something…” he trails off and doesn’t finish his sentence.

Before Louis can reply, the door opens and Abbey’s standing there, frowning. “Livvy’s crying,” she informs in distress. “Why did you make her so sad? My best friend should always be happy.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows at her and he looks over at Harry to see if he understands but he looks every bit as confused. “How did we make her sad?” Louis asks cautiously.

Abbey sighs loudly before opening the door wider so the two of them can enter the house. “We were having so much fun! And then all I did was hug my mum and dad and she started crying, saying that her family was broken! Why did you break Livvy’s family?”

There isn’t much Louis can say to that so he just frowns at her before asking, “Where’s Olivia?”

Right as he asks that, Olivia comes running down the hallway, clinging onto both his and Harry’s legs at once. She’s still crying and Louis is so surprised that he just stands there, unsure what to do.

When she looks up at them, it’s obvious that something’s really upsetting her and Louis really hopes it’s not what Abbey said. Olivia’s hair is a mess and her eyes are puffy, tears streaking down her red cheeks. She’s pouting and her nose is dripping and Louis feels like his heart has been crushed all over again.

Louis looks over at Harry to see he’s already looking at him with wide eyes, alarmed. The question is obvious in his eyes and Louis figures he’s reflecting them right back at Harry; _what are we supposed to do? Who holds her first?_

Eventually Harry crouches down and Louis follows his lead before the two of them wrap their arms around Olivia at the same time, pulling her into a group hug.

Olivia sniffles but then she throws her arms around both of their necks and Louis shuffles closer to her. Even as he’s hugging her tightly, he’s distinctly aware of Harry’s presence.

He smells different—rather than cinnamon and maple syrup, he smells like vanilla and gingerbread cookies. Louis missed him so much.

Just being able to touch Harry feels like being alive again and Louis doesn’t know why that is.

Louis doesn’t know how he’s meant to let go but then Olivia slumps against Harry’s shoulder, obviously tired. Louis lets go of her carefully, letting Harry hold her before going over to where Abbey’s parents are standing nearby.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes to them both and Abbey’s mother Angel shakes her head insistently.

“No, no. It’s fine, Louis. I just—I’ve never seen Olivia cry, actually. It was a bit of a shock,” Angel laughs quietly.

Louis nods before scratching the back of neck. He glances over at Harry and Olivia, watching him whispering something to her and her nod in reply, hugging him tightly. “Do you—do you know what set her off?” he asks them when he turns back around.

Angel nods, frowning now. “I found her in the bathroom crying about her family being broken and she said she needed her dads. I didn’t realize that—I didn’t know she called Harry too. I wasn’t aware that Harry was—um. A father figure to her. That was my mistake. I apologize.”

It becomes apparent that Abbey wasn’t lying and Louis can’t stand the idea of Olivia thinks her family is broken. Louis knows exactly what it’s like to have a broken family and he refuses to ever let his daughter go through that.

“Thank you,” he tells Abbey’s parents earnestly. “I think I’ll just take her home now.”

They both nod and Louis sees their clasped hands between their bodies. He can understand why Olivia was upset.

Louis walks back over to Harry and Olivia. Harry’s holding her in his arms right now, hoisting on his waist and the sight makes Louis’ stomach flip.

He clears his throat and Harry looks over at him tiredly.

“We’re leaving,” he clarifies and Harry nods, following him through the door.

Louis opens the back doors of the car first, letting Harry set Olivia down since she’s half asleep.

It’s only when he opens his own door that he realizes Harry is staring at Olivia with watery eyes and his entire expression is miserable.

“Hey,” Louis calls softly before he cocks his head towards the passenger seat. “She needs you right now.”

Harry stares at him in disbelief for a moment before he nods abruptly. Louis watches as he motions for the car he came in to leave and Louis squints a little before he recognizes Niall in the driver’s seat.

He doesn’t pay any more attention after that because Harry climbs into the backseat of the car instead of the passenger seat.

Louis stares after him for a second before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is utterly silent, aside from Olivia’s occasional whimpers in her sleep. By the time they get to the parking lot of Louis’ building, even Harry looks close to falling asleep.

Louis gets out of the car and opens the door for Harry. He belatedly realizes that it’s snowing but it doesn’t seem to matter all that much—not when there’s a much bigger problem at hand.

Unable to help himself, Louis reaches out and undoes Harry’s seatbelt for him because it’s just been _so_ long since he’s been allowed to touch. It’s Christmas in less than week so it’s been nearly a month since he’s properly been able to look at Harry.

Even now, Louis doesn’t know if he’s really allowed to look but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away.

After a split second of hesitance, he brushes a few stray curls out of Harry’s eyes and gently shakes his shoulder. “Hey, we’re here,” he murmurs quietly.

He reaches over to do the same to Olivia but she’s already awake, eyes rimed red and an unmistakable frown on her face.

Louis sighs, pressing a kiss to forehead and tucks a few strands of her hair behind her ear as well before shaking Harry again lightly. “Harry, love, we’re here.”

Harry blinks his eyes open and for a second, it’s as if they’re suspended in time. All Louis sees is _greengreengreen_ but then the moment is over and Harry sits up properly.

“You good, Olive?” Harry checks and Olivia only whimpers again reply.

Louis moves out of the way so the two of them can get out of the car, Harry carrying a sleepy Olivia once again.

When they get to the flat, Louis opens the door and says, “Um—you can just put her in my room.”

Harry nods, bouncing Olivia in his arms lightly and Louis watches him press a kiss to Olivia’s forehead as he carries her to Louis’ room.

Alone in the living room, Louis finally lets himself take a moment for himself.

This is actually happening. Harry’s back because Olivia called and told him to come for her which he did without any hesitance whatsoever.

Olivia thinks her family is broken and Louis doesn’t know how he’s supposed to fix it.

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to act around Harry because suddenly everything is uncharted territory—one step out of line could set off a bomb that Louis doesn’t know how to diffuse.

Harry doesn’t come out of Louis’ room for a while and eventually, Louis goes to investigate.

What he finds is Olivia and Harry both lying on his bed, Olivia’s arms wrapped tightly around Harry’s waist and Harry’s hand softly running through her dirty blond hair.

Louis doesn’t know how long he stands in the doorway, staring at them but Harry notices him after a while and his eyes widen.

“I’m sorry. Olive begged me to stay and I couldn’t—” Harry tries to explain and Louis raises a hand, cutting him off.

“It’s… it’s good that you stayed,” he says quietly, feeling his stomach twist at how much he really means that. “I’ll just go sleep somewhere else. It’s fine.”

Before Louis can step out of the room, Olivia twists around in Harry’s arm to shake her head again, bottom lip trembling. “No, papa, stay. Please papa. Stay.”

“I—” Louis starts but he really can’t deny Olivia of what she wants when she looks so incredibly heartbroken already. “Yeah, alright Liv. Budge over.”

Olivia scoots over even though Louis was just teasing and his throat feels dry at the sight of Olivia burrowed in Harry’s chest.

Louis climbs into bed next to her and kisses the side of her head before pulling the blanket over the three of them so Olivia’s covered up to her shoulders.

He throws an arm over her but then he’s surprised but another arm there as well. Louis almost jerks his hand back from Harry’s but then Olivia lays her arm on top of both of theirs and he knows he can’t.

Harry looks apologetic and Louis just shrugs lightly, reaching over with his free hand to turn the bedside lamp off.

When they’re in complete darkness, it’s easier to think.

Louis doesn’t think all that much though. He passes out almost immediately, the sound of Olivia’s breathing lulling him to sleep. The steady warmth of Harry’s hand against his might play a factor as well.

✿✿✿

Harry wakes up early in the morning and he’s disoriented.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep and at first he has no idea where he is but then the events from the night before floods his mind.

Olivia calling him in tears, saying she needs him to come pick her up right away and Harry going without a second thought. Seeing Louis at the doorway, just as surprised as him. Coming home with Louis and Olivia. Falling asleep with Olivia tucked tightly in between the two of them.

It all feels blurry in Harry’s mind but he knows these are real events that happened and he also knows that he’s still in Louis’ bed.

Seeing Louis again after so long was like being hit with a truck.

Louis is still beautiful—with some scruff along his cheeks, his wolfish smile and dark blue eyes. Louis is still kind—apologizing to Abbey’s parents, opening the door for him and letting him stay the night. Louis is still a good father—rushing to Olivia’s aid when she needed him, pressing kisses into Olivia’s skin and pulling the blanket up to keep her warm at night. Louis is still the man that Harry is in love with and it fucking hurts.

It takes a few minutes of lying there before Harry realizes that he needs to leave. He can’t be here—he shouldn’t be here and just because Louis was kind enough to let him stay for Olivia doesn’t mean Harry should abuse that kindness and overstep his boundaries by staying.

Harry tentatively pulls his arm out from beneath Louis’, careful to make sure he doesn’t wake the older man up before he presses a kiss to Olivia’s forehead. He slowly crawls out of bed but as he’s standing up, small fingers tangle with his.

He turns around in confusion to see Olivia sitting up, her back pressed against her sleeping father’s chest. She’s sleepily rubbing at her eyes that are puffy from crying all last night and her lips are turning down in a pout.

“Daddy?” Olivia croaks and Harry’s heart falls right out of his chest.

“Olivia?” Harry replies slowly, ignoring the way he can hear his heart pounding his ears. “Are you alright, sweetheart? Go back to sleep,” he urges, gesturing towards the pillows.

Olivia shakes her head and she tugs lightly on Harry’s hand, pulling him closer. “Daddy, please don’t leave me. Not again. Please daddy,” she mumbles, her voice cracking on the last word. _Daddy_.

Harry has to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from making any noises as he nods, feeling tears pool in his eyes. He climbs back into bed, holding Olivia’s hand tightly in his.

When he finally feels like he can speak again, he quietly says, “I’m sorry, Olive. I promise not to leave you,” before pressing his lips against her forehead. “I won’t go anywhere as long as you need me.”

Olivia nods, burrowing her head into his chest. “I love you very much a lot, daddy,” she mumbles, voice laced with sleep.

Harry swallows loudly before murmuring, “I love you very much a lot too, Olive,” but she’s asleep before he finishes her sentence. He kisses the top of her head one more time before he falls back asleep too.

-

Harry knows he can’t stay long. That’s why a few hours later when he wakes up again, he lightly shakes Olivia until she’s up as well.

He motions for her to stay quiet and she nods before they both leave the room. They brush their teeth side by side—Harry’s pink toothbrush is still there. It’s not gone yet unlike everything else.

Olivia helps him make breakfast for three but Harry wraps Louis’ breakfast up and leaves it on the counter before he sits in front of Olivia who’s already half finished eating.

Reaching across the table, he takes her hand in his and before he can say anything, Olivia asks, “Daddy, are you going to leave again?”

It’s still a shock hours later, hearing her call him daddy—she’s never done it before this morning and Harry wonders if Olivia understands the importance of calling him that. He figures she must.

Unable to lie to her, Harry nods slowly, biting his bottom lip. “I’m so sorry, Olive. This isn’t the right place for me to be right now,” he apologizes, running his thumb over her knuckles.

Harry hates that she looks unhappy again but he knows lying to her would only make it worse when she inevitably finds out. “Are you sure, daddy?” she asks and her voice is completely despondent.

Hesitantly, he nods before squeezing her fingers his own. “I’m really sorry. I hope you know it doesn’t mean that I love you any less. You mean the world to me, Olivia. I really wish I didn’t have to go but it’s not up to me.”

Olivia nods, sighing deeply. “It’s up to papa, isn’t it?”

Harry doesn’t reply because he doesn’t want Olivia to build up resentment towards her father. He can’t say he agrees with Louis’ actions but he understands why he’s doing it. In his mind, it’s because he thinks it’s what’s best for Olivia.

When Harry says nothing, Olivia nods again, lips turning down in the corner. “He’ll fix this, daddy,” she promises quietly and her grey eyes look full of hope that Harry couldn’t dream of crushing. “Papa will fix this. I know he will.”

He squeezes her hands one last time before letting go. “I really hope so, Olive.”

✿✿✿

Louis finds Olivia sitting on the couch, holding Harry’s beanie in her lap.

He’s confused because he doesn’t know where Harry is but Olivia doesn’t look _too_ upset so he figures the younger man didn’t stray far.

“Good morning, Liv,” he says, sitting down next to her. “Do you feel better?”

Olivia hums quietly, but doesn’t say anything else. She’s toying with a loose thread in the beanie, wrapping and unwrapped it around her finger.

Louis frowns at her before trying again. “Do you want talk about what happened last night?”

Olivia gives him an unimpressed look before she shifts her gaze to the telly where the movie _Lilo & Stitch_ is playing.

It’s clear she’s not exactly pleased with him and he doesn’t what he’s done this time. He figured bringing Harry home would cheer her up but now he doesn’t know _what_ to think.

“Where’s Harry?” Louis finally asks, unable to hold the question in any longer.

Her response is to shrug and say, “He left,” casually.

Louis makes a face before incredulously asking, “ _What_?”

“He left,” Olivia repeats before she tugs Harry’s beanie over her head, her nose twitching when it covers her eyes. “Are you going to do something about it, papa?”

“I—” the words die in Louis’ throat because he knows that Olivia wants him to do something and he knows that _he_ wants to do something but he just can’t bring himself to. “I don’t know,” he finally admits.

Olivia sighs before she gestures towards the telly. “Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind. Or forgotten,” she quotes quietly before she slips off the couch and turns the movie. She turns back to him once more, with a solemn expression on her face. “Harry is our family, papa.”

Louis frowns as he watches her leave the room without another word and he wonders where it all went wrong—how the happiest days of his life turned into the worst.

-

The entire atmosphere of the flat feels melancholy, as if he and Olivia are mourning someone. Louis supposes they are in a sense.

If someone asked Louis a month ago what he thought Christmas was going to be like at this flat he would reply cheerful and festive. Not because of him because he usually just packs his bags and heads off to Doncaster.

Instead, he thought it would be because of Harry. He knows firsthand from Halloween that Harry loves getting festive and putting up decorations and baking treats and just having a good time.

Since Christmas is Harry’s favorite holiday, Louis figured it would be even more fun—putting up the tree and hanging ornaments, baking gingerbread cookies, dressing up in Christmas colors; the whole ordeal.

What happens instead is that they put up a tree with a few ornaments before Olivia gets too upset and starts crying.  They don’t even try to bake because Louis knows the flat would actually burn to the ground even if he tried.

At first they try to wear festive colors but then every time Olivia wears green, she seems to sink in on herself and Louis knows why because he can’t bring himself to wear green either.

Olivia writes her letter to Santa in school (having it proofread by her teacher) and when Louis is reading it over later when she’s asleep, he finds himself sighing.

_Dear Mr. Santa Claus,_

_Hiiiiii. Can I call you Santa? Hi Santa. I hope everything is good at the North Pole and all the Elves are happy! I know this year I was a bad girl in the beginning. I am sorry :( I’m good now though! I just want 2 things for Christmas this year… my papa has a problem. He is very sad. I do not think he knows he is sad but he is very sad and very busy. No one gives him kisses. Except now Harry does! Harry gives papa a lot of kisses and every time Harry gives papa a kiss, papa smiles. Papa has the best smiles. I think he should always smile. I like when papa is happy. Harry makes papa happy. The problem is that papa loves me TOO much! He thinks if he loves someone else then he will not love me enough. Papa is silly because Harry tolded me that everyone has infinities love! I do not know what infinities is but Harry says it’s big and forever. Papa can love me and Harry and then he can be happy. There is another problem though. Papa was being too silly and he made Harry go away infinities! I miss Harry a lot, Santa. For Christmas I want papa to be happy and I want Harry to come home. That is not actually 2 things. It is 1 thing. When Harry comes home, papa will be happy. That is all I want. Thank you, Santa. You’re the bestest._

_Olivia/Liv/Olive Elise Tomlinson_

 

“Fuck,” Louis mutters to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face.

He feels so completely lost on what to do. Everything is a complete mess—Harry is gone, Niall isn’t speaking to him, Zayn calls every few hours to make sure Louis hasn’t drowned himself in a pint of ice cream and Liam just keeps insisting that Louis talk to Harry and work it all out. Olivia is constantly moping around the flat since it’s her Christmas break and she doesn’t have any ballet classes either.

Louis doesn’t have a clue as how to cheer her up because no matter what he does, Olivia will either start crying or she’ll get really angry and walk out of the room. Neither one is particularly pleasant for Louis.

It doesn’t help that he misses Harry, so much that it almost hurts. He thinks he probably would’ve broken down a long time ago if he didn’t have Olivia to take care of.

Having even just a little bit of Harry for that one night makes him dizzy with want—and not in the way people would think.

What Louis wants with Harry is to have conversations that last into the night again, to playfully banter over household chores, to sit side-by-side and play the piano together, to hold hands as they watch Olivia perform, to receive little sticky notes with _x_ ’s in Harry’s handwriting on them, to have Harry’s fingers brushing against his waist, to hear the sound of Harry’s voice first thing in the morning when he showers, to have a cup of coffee waiting for him just the way he likes—he just wants everything and he wants it with Harry.

Louis frowns at the letter once more before folding it and putting it back in the envelope it was sealed in.

Not soon after, Louis finds himself in the piano room lightly running his fingers over the keys. He feels almost nostalgic, remembering the first time he saw Harry sitting here playing.

It was all so easy back then, easy to call Harry twinkles toes and to grin at him and not worry about any repercussions.

Now all Louis feels is terribly empty on the inside. Louis starts to clean up the sheet music on the top of the piano when an unfamiliar one catches his eye.

Louis organizes the rest of the papers before taking the one he’s never seen before and running over the lyrics in his head.

_…and we won’t be going home for so long (for so long). I know I won’t be on my own (on my own). But I’m feeling like right now, I wish you were here with me. Right now, everything is new to me. You know I can’t fight the feeling and every night I feel it. Right now, I wish you were here with me._

The first thing Louis feels is complete and utter hate for the song. The second thing is regret because that’s exactly how he feels— _right now_ as the lyrics say.

He hates that Harry wrote this and he hates that Harry knows him better than anyone else. He hates it all so much because this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Harry was supposed to just be his daughter’s nanny; nothing more and nothing less. Somehow though, he’s become a hell of a lot more than that and Louis doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

All he wants is to be a good father to Olivia and he has no idea how to handle both a relationship on his plate as well as taking care of his daughter. There’s a reason he’s been single for the past five years and it’s not because he’s scared of love or whatever it is that Zayn says.

It’s because ever since his best friend died, Louis hasn’t felt in control. He doesn’t know how to take chances because he’s too scared of what’ll happen. Anything can happen at any time and people can be taken away just as quickly.

Louis doesn’t know if he can lose Harry too—doesn’t know if _Olivia_ can handle losing Harry. She’s lost two parents already and Louis doesn’t plan to let her lose another person ever again.

He thinks that plan backfired just a little bit.

Louis stares at the lyrics once more and his eyes focus in on the word _home_. He doesn’t know how long he spends just looking at the word but suddenly he knows what he has to do.

When he wakes Olivia up, she’s cranky at first and he doesn’t blame her since it’s maybe three in the morning and even he would be upset if someone woke him up at that time.

“What do you want?” she slurs, clinging tightly to the stuffed bunny Harry got her after the silly rabbit incident. “Let me sleep.”

Louis shakes his head, pulling the covers off her before he starts rummaging through her drawers and haphazardly throwing clothes into the small Cinderella duffle bag at the end of her bed.

“Papa?” Olivia asks, but she’s sitting up now and rubbing her eyes in confusion. “Papa, what are you doing? Why are you putting my stuff away?”

“No time for questions,” he replies, handing her a jumper. “We have to get going, Liv.”

Olivia gives him a weird look but obliges all the same, slipping the jumper on and then she gets off her bed to grab a pair of jeans. “I’m so sleepy though,” she complains, tugging the jeans on and struggling with the belt.

Louis zips her duffle bag before crouching down so he can help her with her belt. “You can sleep in the car, darling,” he soothes, brushing her hair behind her ear before gesturing towards her room. “If you need anything else urgently, just put it in the bag, okay?”

She nods in confusion and Louis kisses her nose lightly before going to his own room and packing a travel bag full of clothes. This very well may be one of the worst decisions of his life but he’s fairly positive he made the first one a few weeks ago when he told Harry to not come back.

He’s going to try to fix that decision with this one and he’s just going to pray that this one doesn’t backfire on him as well.

Louis isn’t that good at taking chances but he thinks this time, it’ll be alright.

In ten minutes, he and Olivia are buckled into their seats and after a brief call to Niall, they’re ready to go.

Olivia falls back asleep relatively quickly and Louis can hear her breathing even out. It’s only then that he lets himself think about what he’s about to do.

It’s been a while since Louis has been truly reckless but right now, what he’s doing is beyond stupid. Zayn would yell at him if he were awake—which thankfully, he’s not.

Louis is driving to Harry’s house at half three in the morning because he’s stupidly, recklessly and terribly in love with him. He’s driving there because Harry is his and Olivia’s home just like they are his.

He doesn’t really have an excuse for why it took him this long to figure it out but he knows now and he’s going to fix this—fix all of it.

Halfway to Holmes Chapel, it starts snowing and Louis feels like it’s a sign. Everything is going to be alright.

Harry’s Christmas present is sitting in the passenger seat—an official version of his CD, _One and Only_.

Since their falling out, Liam’s been the one to look over Harry’s recording process but he reported back to Louis anyways. When Louis found out what Harry was calling the album, he nearly spit out his coffee but thankfully he'd swallowed right beforehand.

Louis doesn’t really know why he had the album with him because he didn’t have any plans to see Harry for Christmas before this but he thinks maybe his subconscious knew, even if he didn’t.

Olivia knew all along that he would fix it—he doesn’t know how but she did. She believed in him and trusted him to do what needed to be done. Or maybe she’s fate’s messenger.

He thinks that would explain a lot.

By the time he gets to Holmes Chapel, the sun is rising and it reminds Louis of a new beginning which is what he hopes this trip will result in.

It takes him another five minutes to actually find the address Harry gave him but when he does, he feels all the stress and tension in his shoulders leave almost immediately.

It’s as if his soul knows that Harry is near.

Olivia is still sleeping and he decides not to wake her up in case things go terribly and he has to drive back home so he simply leans over his seat to press a kiss to her forehead. She shifts a little but she doesn’t seem to be awake so Louis takes a deep breath and gets out of the car.

The walk to Harry’s front door is both the most peaceful and most nerve-wrecking walk of his life. He’s anxious but a part of him finally feels at ease, knowing he might see Harry any moment.

Louis rings the doorbell and waits.

He hears noises inside the house afterwards and it takes a while but the door swings open after a minute to reveal a Harry clad in pajamas.

Harry was clearly sleeping because he’s yawning and rubbing his eyes as he opens the door and Louis is so in love with him it hurts.

When Harry finally realizes that it’s Louis at the door, his arm drops to his side and his eyes widen in disbelief.

Before he can say anything, Louis takes the one step between them and fists Harry’s collar, pulling him into a kiss.

Louis’ heard that fireworks explode when you kiss the right person but he doesn’t hear fireworks—he hears the erratic beat of his own heart and Harry’s sharp inhale of surprise.

Harry’s lips are soft against his, even if they’re slightly chapped. He smells like peppermint and pine needles and it’s a scent Louis would happily breathe in for the rest of his life without hesitation.

When Louis pulls away, Harry’s eyes are still wide but his face is softer, and brighter.

“You kissed me,” Harry murmurs, a repeat of the previous conversation.

Louis doesn’t waste any time by following his lead. Instead he takes another deep breath before saying in one quick breath, “I’m in love with you.”

It’s utterly silent aside from the wind. Harry’s staring at him with his lips parted in shock and he looks rather speechless so Louis decides to continue talking.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. Te amo. Je t’aime. Ti amo. Ich liebe dich. Aishiteru. Jag alskar dig,” Louis starts listing off in the languages he knows and in front of him, Harry lets out an incredulous laugh. Louis feels his own lips spread into a smile as he keeps speaking, “I love you, Harry.”

“Shut up, Lou,” Harry mutters before lips are pressed against his again, soft and sweet. “I love you too.”

Louis feels like his heart bursts with those words before he thinks back to Olivia’s letter to Santa and he changes his mind. His heart grows bigger—expanding for all the love.

Speaking of Olivia, he hears footsteps behind him and then Olivia yells, “Daddy!” loudly.

Louis is confused for a moment because she never calls him anything but papa, but nevertheless he replies, “Yes, sweetheart?”

That turns out to be pointless though because Olivia runs straight into Harry’s arms, hugging him tightly around the waist. “I told you he would come for you, daddy,” she murmurs, looking up at Harry with bright eyes.

Harry isn’t looking back at her though because he’s too busy looking at Louis with a stricken expression.

Louis himself is staring at the two of them in surprise, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He slowly realizes that feeling isn’t hurt, but rather pride. Pride that Olivia knew what Louis missed the entire time.

Harry is just as much of a father figure to her as Louis is—Harry is her daddy and Louis is her papa. They’re a family.

That’s why Louis beams brightly at Harry, reaching out to tangle their fingers together and Harry smiles back a little hesitantly before he fully grins back at him.

“You did tell me,” Harry agrees with Olivia, his free arm wrapped around her. “I’m really glad you were right, Olivia.”

“Me too,” she mumbles happily before she slips one arm around Harry’s waist to reach over to Louis who comes easily.

As they’re hugging, Louis thinks Olivia is the brightest out of all of them. They’re a family. This is home.

Harry knows it too if the way he looks at Louis with stars in his eyes is any indication.

✿✿✿

✿✿✿

✿✿✿

“Daddy,” Olivia whines, tugging on Harry’s hand, pulling him towards the flat. “I’m hungry, can you walk faster?”

“You just want to eat my birthday cake,” Harry accuses playfully and she glowers at him, nose wrinkling adorably.

“Is that a crime?” she replies, stopping only to put a hand on her hip impudently.

Harry smiles before shaking his head. “Not at all,” he reassures and she sighs exasperatedly but it’s a lot fonder than she probably intends

It’s his twenty-second birthday and it’s a lot different than his twenty-first. A year ago he didn’t know Olivia or Louis—he didn’t know what it was like to be a part of a family that wasn’t his own mum and sister.

Now that he knows, he doesn’t think he could be any happier.

Harry’s first single _Strong_ is currently on the market, having released a little after New Years and he’s doing a lot better on the charts than he ever thought was possible.

He’s been number one for two weeks now and he has an actual _fanbase_ amazingly enough. It’s amazing, and through it all, Louis has stayed true his promise and remained his biggest fan. Well, aside from Olivia.

Under her breath, Olivia is humming _twinkle twinkle little star_ and it makes Harry’s grin widen.

When they reach the door, he unlocks it and he expects Olivia to push it open impatiently like she always does. Instead, she gestures for him to go ahead.

He squints suspiciously at her but opens the door anyways, stepping into the flat.

That would be his first mistake.

Almost as quickly as he enters, a cake hits his face and the sound of laughter fills his ears. Harry gasps in shock, reaching up to wipe the icing off his eyes and behind him, Olivia is giggling delightedly.

When he finally manages to blink his eyes open, Louis is standing there grinning and beside him is Niall who’s snickering into Zayn’s shoulder. Liam is holding out a towel and Harry snatches it from him.

Before he gets a chance to wipe the cake off his face, the flash of a camera goes off, startling him so hard that he takes a step backward and slips on some of the cake on the ground. His second mistake.

Luckily, he doesn’t make a third mistake because Louis reaches out and steadies him before he can fall, gripping tightly to his waist. “Alright there, twinkle toes?” Louis teases and Harry scowls at him.

Without answering, Harry simply grabs a fistful of the cake that Zayn is now holding and Louis doesn’t have time to react before Harry throws it in his face.

Louis gapes at him in shock and Harry smiles sweetly. Behind him, Olivia is giggling so after a moment, Harry grabs another handful of cake and turns towards Olivia, wiggling his eyebrows.

Olivia squeals, shouting, “No, no, not me!” and running past. He didn’t actually intend to throw the cake at her but her reaction makes him laugh anyways.

When he turns back to Louis, the older man is wiping cake off his cheekbones and before Harry can help himself, he leans in and kisses the icing off his bottom lip.

Louis makes a surprised noise but then his hand comes to rest on Harry’s face, cradling his jaw. Harry hums pleasantly and next to them, Niall makes a retching noise.

“You two are disgusting,” he complains when Harry pulls away, bright eyed and flushed cheeked.

Harry just shrugs at his best friend before locking eyes with Louis and grinning. “You taste sweet.”

Louis lets out a loud laugh and his hand is still on Harry’s waist from before. He squeezes and Harry steps closer to him. “Yeah, well you’re sweet enough.”

-

Olivia brings him a card after both he and Louis have showered. He smiles at her, remembering her promise to make him the nicest card anyone has ever seen.

When he opens it, what’s written inside is _happy 22 ndbday daddy. thank you 4 making this year the best year ever!!! papa and I love you very much a lot daddy and you mean the whole world to us :)_

There’s various pictures all over the card, pictures from Olivia’s birthday party, of him and Olivia asleep in Louis’ bed, him and Louis sitting together and playing the piano, Harry’s first performance, their trip to New York, Halloween, Olivia’s school carnival. Pictures, so many pictures, pictures from the entire year, but all Harry focuses on is the words in the card.

He pulls her into a hug almost immediately.

“I love you very much a lot too, Olive,” he tells her before smiling at Louis over her shoulder. “And you too sweetcheeks, I guess.”

“I’m flattered, twinkle toes,” Louis replies dryly but then he joins their hug and Harry feels completely at home, tangled in their arms.

-

Harry realizes at some point or another that he really started falling for Louis long before he knew it himself. It just kind of happened.

When he met Louis that first night, he had no idea what was going to happen—had no idea how much of an impact that stranger was going to make on his life.

With his crinkly-eyed smile and the tiny freckles scattered across his nose, Louis is possibly the thing  Harry treasures the most in the whole world.

Louis who’s sitting next to him right nw, watching some random show on the telly with his head resting on Harry’s shoulder, eyes drooping closed. It’s a perfect way to end his birthday.

Louis, whose fingers are tangled with his own underneath the duvet they set aside specifically for cuddling on the couch since it happens almost every night.

Outside there’s a blizzard and Harry feels only an ounce of regret for not joining Zayn and Niall on their miniature vacation to Spain that they left for right after his party. Then he looks back at Louis’ sleepy expression and he really doesn’t regret it at all because there’s nowhere else in the world that he would rather be.

Harry carefully nudges Louis’ arm with his own and Louis blinks once then twice before turning his head to look at Harry. “Yes love?”

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Harry teases, squeezing Louis’ fingers as he laughs quietly.

“Yes, I am. In both the metaphoric and literal sense. Your shoulder is quite comfy. Looks bony but I guess that’s why you don’t judge a book by its cover,” Louis murmurs, turning his head to side so he can press a kiss where Harry’s neck meets his shoulder.

“It’s too early to sleep,” Harry admonishes lightly, still teasing as he felt a smile pull at his lips. He can vaguely hear his own music coming from their kitchen, where the radio is turned down low.

Louis shifts slightly, making himself more comfortable. “Don’t be such a bully. If I want to sleep then I’m going to damn well sleep,” Louis mumbles but he’s smiling widely against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry snorts, shaking his head. “I’m not a bully,” he clarifies, before grinning down at Louis. “Can I have a kiss before you fall asleep?”

As he asks, he turns away from Louis slightly so he face him better and Louis lets out a noise of protest as his head nearly falls into Harry’s lap.

“Just because you have a number one single, you think you can go around demanding kisses,” Louis mutters as if it genuinely troubles him. Harry can see the mirth in his eyes, though, when he sits back up straight. “I should start charging you.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “I asked, I didn’t demand,” he protests lightly before tilting his head thoughtfully. “Feel free to charge me though. You can handcuff me too, if that makes you feel better,” he offers before grinning and pointing towards his lips with his free hand. “One kiss, come on. It’s my birthday.”

Louis sighs, rolling his eyes and Harry’s grin widens because he can see how hard Louis is fighting off a smile as the older man leans in and presses his lips against Harry’s gently.

It only lasts a second before Louis pulls away, smiling softly. “Let me sleep now, twinkle toes,” he demands. Harry doesn’t answer, too busy beaming down at him fondly to do much of anything else.

Louis takes matters into his own hands, tugging Harry closer with his free arm before he rests his head on Harry’s shoulder again.

Harry resists the urge to brush his fingers against his own lips because as ridiculous as it is, Harry still has a hard time believing that _he’s_ the one that gets to kiss Louis Tomlinson, whenever he wants, wherever he wants.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry agrees belatedly, nodding his head. “You have my permission to sleep."

Louis snorts, muttering, “Like I need your permission.” Then he snuggles further into Harry’s neck, pressing a chaste kiss to the curly-haired man's lips before shutting his eyes. He squeezes their hands though and Harry squeezes back.

Taking a moment to really look at Louis, Harry feels a stab of heat in his heart when it occurs to him, putting Olivia aside, there’s absolutely no one in the world that Harry loves more than him.

And there’s no one in the world that loves him more than Louis does.

Louis is the person who came for him, just like Olivia said he would. He didn’t give up on Harry, even when it might’ve been easier to do that instead of chase him.

Blinking, Harry pats Louis’ knee gently underneath the duvet with his free hand. Louis’ response is to hum, clearly half asleep.

“I love you,” he whispers, knowing Louis can hear him. “I love you very much a lot. Like a lot. So fucking much.”

Louis smiles into Harry’s neck again as his voice is hoarse when he replies, drowsily mumbling, “I love you very much a lot too. You’re a star.”

Harry squeezes Louis’ hand even though he knows Louis is asleep by then because his breathing evens out and his hand is slack in Harry’s.

“Then you’re the entire universe,” he says quietly, even though there’s no one there to hear him. It doesn’t really matter because it’s still true.

Louis is Harry’s entire universe and Harry is Louis’ star. Just like it was fated to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me comments and kudos below because they make my entire day!!!
> 
> My tumblr is [lourrynavy](http://lourrynavy.tumblr.com) and my twitter is [deepestIove](http://twitter.com/deepestIove) if you ever want to say hi! :)


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